Heart and Soul
by TassanaBurrfoot
Summary: Dear Miss Granger,I understand and sympathize with your concerns. You must remember that I taught his parents, so I know how difficult Mr. Malfoy can be. I assure you that, with time, this may pass, if it has not all ready. He cannot come to the school, t
1. Prologue

Disclaimers: I do not now, nor have I ever owned the Harry Potter series or it's characters. This story is strictly a work of fan fiction devoted to this wonderful world of Harry Potter. Any similarities between real people, places, and things is purely coincidental.

This story is a Draco/Hermione fic. If you do not like this couple, I suggest hitting the back button now. This story also contains scenes of an explicit nature. If you are under the age of 18, or if such scenes offend you, I suggest hitting the back button. I am not responsible for controlling what children read. That responsibility rests within the confines of proper parenting.

This story rides along with the sixth and seventh books. If you haven't read these books, I suggest you do so before reading this story, otherwise you will not understand some of it. This is an alternate universe, so there may be some inconsistencies. This is done on purpose, to fit my story and my version of events that shall unfold.

This shall be your only warning.

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_**Heart and Soul**_

By Tassana Burrfoot

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_Prologue_

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Hermione woke up with a jolt. She sleepily looked around her and briefly wondered what had caused her to awaken. Then, she remembered something had crashed.

It had been only four days since the incident at the Ministry. Since school ended. Four days since the battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the Department of Mystery.

Her room was dark. Indeed, looking at her bedside clock, she realized it was one o'clock in the morning. She quickly got out of bed and donned her night robe. It had occurred to her that while Voldemort wanted Harry, it was possible he might try to use her to get to him.

She grabbed her wand and quietly crept to her door. The slight creak the door made caused her to grimace as she opened it.

"Hermione, is that you?" whispered a voice she immediately recognized as her father.

"Yes," she answered in a soft hiss. "What was that noise?"

In the dim hallway light, she could see her father standing before her, holding a baseball bat. Of course, he would. He was a Muggle. Both of her parents were Muggles. Muggle dentists to be more precise.

"I don't know," he replied, shaking his head. "But I intend on finding out."

She silently agreed, but then bulked when he told her to stay there. "And if it's a magical menace that can't be defeated with a bat?"

"Hermione, I will not let you put yourself in danger," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, for all we know, we might be in very real danger right now. I don't want to argue, Dad. I just want to be there in case. You need magical backup."

He frowned, but then nodded his consent. Together, father and daughter descended the stairwell. Hermione heard a soft moan and saw slight movement on the living room floor. She cautiously reached over to the light switch and flicked it on. She gasped at the sight before her.

Draco Malfoy was lying in the middle of the floor amidst broken glass and splintered wood. He looked as though he had been the victim of a serious beating. His left arm sported a horrible gash that trailed from the middle of his bicep almost to his wrist. His face was covered in blood and his robes were ripped nearly to shreds. It seemed as if he had either fell or was thrown onto the coffee table.

Fear gripping her, Hermione rushed to his side and checked his neck for a pulse. He groaned at her touch and she sighed in audible relief. "Thank God," she breathed. She then began to call him, "Malfoy! Draco Malfoy! Can you hear me? Wake up!"

As she began shaking him, her father asked, "Hermione, do you know this fellow?"

She nodded. "He's a boy that goes to my school."

The sound of her mother's voice caused them both to look up. "What's going on?" she asked them as she entered the living room.

Using the bat to point the boy out, Mr. Granger explained, "One of Hermione's friends from school. He's hurt."

"He's not my friend," Hermione quickly corrected. "Just a boy from school. Actually, we don't get along. He's a foul, low life black hearted git and he probably deserved what he got."

"Hermione Jane Granger!" her mother scolded. "I've never heard you talk as such. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Hermione just shrugged. "It's no less than he deserves."

"And speaking of him like so when he is in this state is proper?" her mother demanded.

"He would do the same to me," the teenager argued feebly.

"So that makes you no better than he is. I thought your father and I taught you better," the older woman fussed.

Hermione sighed in defeat, "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just.. these past few days have been.. hard."

Her mother made no argument to that. Instead, she went to the kitchen and returned moments later with a bowl of warm water. "Here," she said, handing her daughter a rag, "help me clean him up."

Hermione began cleaning his face. The blood there had started to cake, however, as she cleaned it, she saw only a few scratches and a blackened eye. The blood, she assumed, had come from the gash on his arm. Her anger and hatred of him melted away briefly as she saw the anguish and pain etched into his face. She wasn't without compassion, after all.

As she began to wonder what happened to cause him to be in this state, he stirred. Anxiously, she called out, "Malfoy?"

"Granger?" he whispered, his lips barely moved.

"Yes, Malfoy. It's me," she confirmed, continuing to wipe his face with the rag.

Her father, who had been sweeping the debris, glanced up. "He's awake?" he inquired.

But, Hermione did not hear him. Her attention was focused on Malfoy. He was trying to say something, but she couldn't make out his words.

Suddenly, he bolted upward, his good eye wide with fright. His sudden movement startled the Grangers, causing Hermione's parents to look up in alarm and Hermione to fall back.

Draco looked around him in panic. The last thing he remembered was the Dark Lord laughing about Lucius getting sent to Azkaban.

Where was he? He noticed the three people, two of which were obviously Muggles. He sneered at the third person, the only one he recognized. "Where am I, Granger?" he demanded, nastily.

She sighed, "You're in my house. You fell into the coffee table and was knocked unconscious. You've suffered a grievous wound on the arm..."

But, he was no longer listening to her. How did he end up here? Where was his mother? His head was spinning and he felt weak. He touched his temple to stop the spinning and began to stand up.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she warned him, touching his right arm.

He jerked his arm away. "Don't touch me, you filthy little Mudblood!" he snarled.

Eyes narrowed in anger, she stepped back. He paused briefly to stop the room from moving before looking around again. "Where's my wand?" he demanded.

Granger turned and walked to the couch. She picked up his wand. But, when she went to hand it to him, he snatched it from her fingers. He stormed to the door and attempted to open it. Seeing it was locked, he pointed his wand to the handle and said, "_Alohomora!_"

Nothing happened. Frustrated, Draco yanked at the door, to no avail.

"Son, you need to calm down," said the man, who Draco assumed was Granger's father.

"I'm not your son," Draco growled, probably ruder than he should have. He didn't care. "How do you get out of this bloody place?"

The older man walked to the door and unlocked the door. As soon as it was unlocked, Draco yanked the door open and stormed out. It was dark, most likely after midnight. He was in pain and he was tired. But, Draco was determined to get home. He'd waved down the Knight Bus once he got to the end of the stone walkway. Then, he would go home and...

He would never know what he was going to do next. At that moment, his protesting body gave up on him. He felt himself fall face first to the ground. The last thing he remembered was a blackness which engulfed him.


	2. Chapter One

_**Heart And Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

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Chapter One

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Draco's mind screamed for the clicking to stop. He didn't know what caused it, but it annoyed him to no end. It didn't cease, either. Worse, a light threatened to blind him in his sleep.

He loved to sleep, yearned to sleep some more. It had been such a wonderful dream he had been having. His father was a balding old fool and Draco was married to the most beautiful woman in the world. Malfoy Manor was a wonderfully dreadful place to be. The Dark Lord had appointed Draco as the head Death Eater, higher than Bellatrix and more trusted than Snape. Muggles and Mudbloods bowed to his every command.

The clicking still did not stop. The light wouldn't fade. Groaning in annoyance, Draco turned onto his side. It was then he realized he was not sleeping under his silk sheets, but rather cotton ones. Thinking he was at school, he almost dismissed the idea until he remembered: Slytherin House was in the dungeons, away from light.

Draco opened his eyes and blinked. He stared at the sky blue wall in confusion. The blue sheets confused him even more. Was he, for some ungodly reason, in Ravenclaw House? If so, he'll demand to know why.

He sat up and turned to look about the room, prepared to demand an explanation. The room was small, by his standards. His bed, he could tell, was a full sized bed, much smaller than the king sized he had at home.

All other thoughts fled from his mind when he realized what made the clicking noise. He was not alone.

Sitting at a desk wearing a pink tank and a pair of blue jeans, Hermione Granger moved her fingers freely over a small board. Her eyes stared at an odd looking screen that blinked and glowed from an inner light.

"What is that thing?" Draco asked, irritably.

Startled, Granger jumped, causing her fingers to slam onto the board. Had he not been annoyed, Draco would've found her swearing amusing. As it was, he took some measure of comfort in the fact that he had managed to catch her off guard.

She looked at him and sighed. "You're awake," she stated, matter-of-factly. "It's about time, too. My mother was going to have me contact St. Mungo's today if you hadn't awaken."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What is that?" he repeated, pointing to the strange looking object she had been staring at a moment before.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, as though she hadn't heard him.

His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you didn't hear me," he sneered. "I want to know what that horrible contraption is. It woke me up and if you don't tell me..."

"It's a computer," she answered, not letting him finish the sentence. "Muggles use them to transport data, research topics, and talk to one another over long distances. My parents bought it for me for my sixteenth birthday. We set it up in here because I had no room in my own room and since this is a spare room, we turned it into a computer room."

He rolled his eyes. Now that he was awake, he took in the rest of his surroundings. The desk Granger sat at was about the size of the desks the teachers at Hogwarts used in the classrooms. The chair she sat in was cushioned and had wheels on the bottom of it.

Like the desk, the dresser, which sat opposite the desk and next to the door, was a dark cherry wood. Two five shelf dark cherry wood bookshelves sat on either side of the dresser. Both bookshelves were filled with books of all shapes, sizes, and reading styles.

Draco allowed his feet to fall onto the soft, azure carpet. That's when he realized he wore nothing but undergarments. He grabbed the sheets to cover himself. "Where in bloody hell are my clothes?" he demanded, embarrassed and angry to think she might have seen him nude.

She didn't seem the least bit embarrassed by his appearance, which, to him, confirmed his suspicions. "Your robes had been nothing but rags," she explained as she stood up and went to the dresser. "Mum ended up tossing them. At the hospital, your mum had informed us that she would send us some of your clothes, but Father told her it wouldn't be necessary. He didn't think it would be entirely appropriate for you to wear robes around our neighbourhood. So, instead, your mum gave my mum some money for clothes, which we bought. Your mum also sent over your school things, but asked us to get you some new robes. Apparently, your school robes are too small."

He heard maybe half of what she said as she tossed him a pair of jeans. When she turned her back to grab him a shirt, he quickly put the jeans on and buttoned them. He hated Muggle clothes, but anything was better than her seeing him in nothing but his boxers.

"You said my mum sent my things here," he inquired. "Why? Wouldn't she know I would come home the moment I woke up? I sure as hell am not staying here."

She started to respond, but then stopped. Instead, she tossed him a hunter green t-shirt and folder her arms. "If you wish to leave, then do so. I have some Floo Powder on the mantle above the fireplace downstairs. We'll send your things."

He donned the shirt and then grabbed his shoes. Once they were secure on his feet, he stepped out into the hall and went down the stair, taking three steps at a time.

He heard Granger following him, but chose to ignore her. What did he care if she wanted to follow? He was leaving. Seeing the jar of Floo Powder she had mentioned, he grabbed it off the mantle and took some out. There was no fire going, but that was all right. He stepped into the fireplace.

"Malfoy Manor," he said, clearly and concise as he dropped the Floo Powder.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing happened.

Curious, he grabbed the jar and looked at it. "Where did you buy your powder from, Granger? The Muggle market?" he jeered.

She rolled her eyes. "Would you like me to try?" she asked, almost in an amusing way.

He sneered at her. He took some more powder and tried it again. When it didn't work, he approached her, easily towering over her. "I don't know what game you're playing at, Granger, but you are not going to win. I'm going home," he growled.

She didn't budge nor flinch. "Then go," she told him. "I don't want you here any more than you wish to be here. So, go."

He pushed passed her and headed for the door. The locks on the door were easy enough to open. Stepping out into the sunlight, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was leaving the Grangers and going home.

He walked down the stone walkway and thrusted his wand before him. "What are you doing?" Granger asked from somewhere behind him.

He didn't turn around. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he snapped. "I'm going home. Now, go away!"

"The Knight Bus won't come," she told him, guessing what he was doing.

He wheeled on her then. "And why the bloody hell not?" he demanded, annoyed she had guessed correctly.

She indicated the neighbourhood. "First, you are in a Muggle neighbourhood among at least six Muggle children who are currently playing across the street. Secondly, you have to be able to do magic in order to call the Knight Bus, which, right now, you can not."

"_Loco-Motor mortis!_" Draco shouted, pointing his wand at Granger.

Nothing happened.

Granger sighed, "I was trying to tell you. For whatever reason, your magic isn't working. It's like it's.. gone."

(II) (II)

Hermione had only been eleven years old the first time she met Draco Malfoy. Even then, he was arrogant, spoiled, and selfish. He was nasty and mean and loved to be the bully. His gang of Slytherins were known for terrorizing younger and/or weaker students. But, he was always pretty level-headed, for the most part.

In fact, she had never really seen Malfoy lose his temper. She had seen him angry, but never to the point of explosion.

Had the moment not been so serious, Hermione would probably had laughed, or at least smiled, at the comical expression on Malfoy's face. His disbelief of her words were depicted in his wide gray eyes and slight drop of jaw.

"Tell me you are joking," he ordered slowly.

She snorted, "If I were, do you honestly think you'd still be here? I have no desire to have you here. And, trust me, your mother would have preferred you were home rather than in a house of Muggles with their 'Mudblood daughter.'"

Thankfully, he did not explode. However, Hermione had a feeling that if looks could kill, then she'd be a dead person. Silence permeated the area around them. The sounds of children playing had long disappeared.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Hermione asked, "Would you like something to eat?"

"I would like to go home," he growled through clenched teeth.

She scoffed, "So would I. But, it's a long walk to Wiltshire and you don't even know where you are. The least you could do is leave on a full stomach. Perhaps my mum will pack you a lunch you can take on your journey. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

She turned and began walking back to the house. She was careful to hide her relieved smile when she felt him run to catch up to her. "Why can't I do magic?" he questioned, curiously. "What's wrong with me?"

She shrugged, but did not look at him. "I don't know. The Healers couldn't figure it out either."

"So, they just released me? Not bothering to make a study of it? To see if it will come back?" he inquired. "What if I'm contagious?"

"I don't think you are," she answered. "Personally, I think you're just traumatized. Whatever happened to you for you to end up covered in blood on my living room floor was really bad. I've been trying to research it, but I can't seem to find anything on wizards or witches losing their magic through trauma."

She could see him from the corner of her eye and could feel him walking next to her. When they approached the front door, he surprised her by opening the door and allowing her to enter first. The gentlemanly gesture shocked Hermione. She had never known Malfoy to act that way towards anyone, especially her. Quickly deciding not to point this out, she stepped through the threshold and into the house.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart or something," Malfoy commented as he followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. "I always see you with your nose stuck in some book or in the library writing a twelve foot essay for one of our professors. There's got to be something somewhere."

She wasn't sure if he was complimenting her or insulting her. She took it as a mixture of the two as she responded, "Well, it's not like I haven't tried. I don't have Hogwarts Library at my disposal, you know. I can only find so much being among Muggles. My mum brought me to Diagon Alley a few days ago, but even Flourish and Blotts came up empty. So, I've been trying to research the internet. Thought someone within the Wizarding Community might have a website or something."

He looked at her in confusion. "The internet?"

She shrugged. "Werewolves and vampires use it. So, I thought perhaps we might, too."

He continued to give her a confused look, but she ignored it. She really didn't feel like explaining the complicated methods of Muggle communication.

The two teens joined Hermione's father at the breakfast table. He was engrossed in his morning newspaper, so they didn't bother him.

Hermione's mother approached them with a hot skillet. "Draco, dear? Do you like scrambled eggs?" she asked, sweetly.

Malfoy shrugged non-chalant. "They're fine, I guess," he mumbled as she placed a spoonful of eggs onto his plate. "Though, my house-elf usually serves me Eggs Benedict."

The older woman smiled. "Yes, well, we Muggles can't really have house-elves, can we? After all, I have never even seen one. Besides, Hermione is adamant about S.P.E.W."

"Spew?" Malfoy questioned, looking at a disgruntled Hermione.

"Mum!" Hermione reprimanded. "I don't need you telling Malfoy everything that I do! That's none of his business. It's just..."

"Dreadful. Simply dreadful," her father piped from behind his newspaper. He folded the paper and placed it next to him.

"What's dreadful, dear?" her mother inquired as she finished giving everyone eggs and walked back to the kitchen.

He took a sip of his coffee before responding. "More disappearances. People just vanishing into thin air without a trace. Most likely the work of that Lord fellow Hermione's told us about."

Hermione nodded her agreement. "If people are vanishing, it's definitely the work of Lord Voldemort."

Malfoy dropped his fork and stared at her, incredulously. "Are you mad?" he hissed. "How dare you say the Dark Lord's name! My aunt won't even say his name and she's closer to him than probably anyone else. A Mudblood like you..."

"Don't call me that, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, glaring at him.

"Then don't say his name," he retorted.

The two adults looked from one teenager to the other. "What is this about?" her father demanded.

When Malfoy spoke, it was a lot calmer. "No one says the Dark Lord's name. To do so is like writing your own death sentence."

Hermione threw him a matter-of-factly look. "Harry and Dumbledore say his name all the time. Neither one are dead yet."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Potter hasn't much time left. As for Dumbledore, the man's an idiot. He'll get his one day."

Hermione wanted to slap him. She could feel her hand aching with the need. "Dumbledore is a lot older and wiser than anyone sitting at this table," she whispered in a death-like calm. "He has fought Vol-- You Know Who before and sent him scurrying away like a mouse. As for Harry... Just watch, you'll see. Harry will defeat him once and for all."

"It doesn't matter anyway," her father told them both, interrupting their argument. "It's not safe at Hogwarts anymore. Or in the Wizarding Community, for that matter. So, I think, for everyone's sake, Hermione won't be returning to school this year."

"What?!" Hermione shouted in horror over the roar of Malfoy's laughter. "Father, that is not the answer to the problem. Taking me out of school is not going to keep me from getting hurt."

To Hermione's surprise, Malfoy agreed. Wiping a tear from his eye, he commented, "The Dark Lord is going to target Muggle-borns, especially Granger."

"What does he want with my daughter?" her mother questioned, fearfully.

Malfoy sighed, "Like I said, she's Muggle-born, or, as those of us who are pureblood say, a Mudblood. Furthermore, she's been helping Potter to overcome every obstacle the Dark Lord throws at him. She and Potter are friends, really good friends. If the Dark Lord can knock out Granger, that's one more heavy strike against Potter."

"So, she doesn't go back," her father confirmed. "We can go into hiding."

Now Malfoy did laugh. "Where?" he scoffed. "In the country? So typical of Muggles. Hide in the country where no one can hear your screams. While you're at it, you should hang garlic on your doors and fill your guns with silver bullets."

"Don't talk down to my father that way, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

"What are you going to do about it, Granger?" Malfoy bit back. "Go on, then. Hide in the country. Book a flight to another continent. But don't be surprised when the Dark Lord finds you. No one can hide from him for long. If you don't believe me, ask Potter's parents."

He got up from the table and stormed out of the room. Hermione heard him stomp up the stairs and, moments later, slam the door to his room. At least, he didn't try leaving again.

As tears filled her eyes, Hermione silently wished he would have left. She would not have stopped him. She looked at her father and choked. Clearing her throat, she begged him, "Please, don't take me out of school. I know it sounds crazy and dangerous, but Harry needs me. I can't leave him to fend for himself. It wouldn't be right or fair."

Her father sighed, "I don't want to risk losing you. You are my only child. If something were to happen..."

She stopped him. "I trust Harry. He's not going to let anything happen to me. And, if it does, then, well," her voice broke. "If it does, then you'll know I died for the greater good. But, I honestly believe in my heart that I'll be okay."

Her father grabbed her and pulled her into an embrace. Her mother, teary eyed, joined them.


	3. Chapter Two

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Two

Draco kicked his trunk. He had been at the Grangers for two days. Well, for two waking days. He wanted to go home.

He worried about his mother. Though he couldn't remember what happened to him, he did know his father was in prison. He also knew his Aunt Bella was staying at the manor. Which meant the Dark Lord was there and Draco did not know if his mother was safe.

His mind kept telling him that the Dark Lord was not going to hurt her. She would be all right. But, he wasn't so sure. The Dark Lord had allowed Lucius to be arrested, which meant he was angry with the Malfoys.

To make things even worse, Draco was bored. There was nothing for him to do. Granger had suggested he study, but he did not see the point. School was months away and he couldn't do magic anyway.

Though he joined the Grangers for mealtime, he mostly kept to himself. Granger stayed in her room as well, which suited him perfectly. In the morning, however, he would have to chase her out of his room so he could dress. (Every morning he woke up to her typing away on the computer.)

Thankfully, the Grangers gave him his space, so he didn't have to mix with them. They were Muggles and didn't understand his ways. Nor did he really understand them. He knew nothing of what they did or how they interacted. Wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

He glanced at the bookshelves and growled in annoyance. There was just nothing to do. A soft knock came from the door, causing Draco to snap, "What do you want?"

Granger's voice lifted from beyond the door. "Professor Dumbledore is here, Malfoy. He wants to speak to us both in the living room."

Draco yanked the door open and Granger fell into his arms. Apparently, she had been leaning into the door and had lost her balance. Instinct had made him catch her and keep them both from falling. For a brief moment he gazed into her honey coloured eyes. He wondered in that moment what she would do if he were to kiss her. To brush his lips against hers...

"Sorry," she piped as she quickly righted herself, pushing away from him.

He said nothing, but followed her into the living room. He must be going mental. Thinking about kissing Granger? A Mudblood? He'd rather kiss a toad.

Dumbledore was seated in Mr. Granger's reclining chair, sipping a cup of tea. Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat on the couch across from him. When the teenagers entered the room, Dumbledore looked up at them and smiled. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. How are you fairing?"

Draco snorted, "You're mad. How am I fairing? I'm stuck in a Muggle house with nothing to do and no where to go. I haven't seen my mother in ages, have heard nothing from my father. My arm is still busted up because the Healers don't think it would be 'beneficial' to use potions to heal me. I don't have my magic. AND I want to go home!"

The insufferable old man just nodded. "I can understand your need to return home. I, too, have wanted to go home before. Course my home is Hogwarts, but sometimes I feel there might be something else... As for your arm, it looks to be healed."

"No, it's not," Draco argued, pulling back his sleeve to reveal the scar. "If it were healed, I wouldn't have that ugly thing on it."

"It's always been my belief that scars are what define a person," Dumbledore commented, sipping his tea. "A sort of showcase of the trials and tribulations we have had to go through to make us who we are. But no matter, no matter."

Draco watched as the headmaster continued to sip his tea. "Hermione," the old man stated, "you have very hospitable parents. You should be honoured to be their daughter."

Granger blushed. "Oh, I am, Professor."

"Can we get back to me?" Draco demanded, not liking to be ignored. "What's wrong with me? I've been awake for two bloody days, yet I still can't perform magic. Were my father not in Azkaban..."

"He would have no clue on what to do," the Professor interrupted him. "Most likely, you would still be in St. Mungo's. What has happened to you is an extremely rare occurrence. In fact, only two others have ever experienced it."

"What exactly has happened to him, Professor?" Granger politely inquired, drawing a glare from Draco. He hated the politeness.

"I think you all ready know, Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered. "But, I shall elaborate for Mr. Malfoy's sake.

"Years ago, when I was a young boy, much younger than the two of you are now, the same thing happened to a young gentleman in my neighbourhood. Course, his parents, both magic folk, had been fiddling with things they shouldn't have. It was winter break, so the boy was home when their house exploded. Thankfully, the boy lived. But, the trauma of the accident caused him to temporarily forget his magic."

Draco paled. "My house is gone?" he questioned, fearing that was the reason he couldn't return home.

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, it is not," he confirmed, causing Draco to breathe a sigh of relief. "But, something did happen. I don't know what it was, but something traumatic happened to make your forget your magic. I think this is only temporary."

"You think?!" the teenage boy shouted, his face turning red with anger. "What do you mean, 'you think'?"

"Malfoy," Granger said in a calm voice, "this has only happened to two others in history. We can only hope that it is temporary and you'll get your magic back. But, it is possible it could be permanent."

Draco did not want to hear this news. The idea that it could be permanent both scared and worried him. Not to mention, it didn't really help the situation. Defeated, he asked, "So, what do I do?"

"Study," Dumbledore replied, as if it were obvious. "Read your school books and do your homework. Practice saying the spells you'll be learning this coming year."

"If I can't perform them, what good will it do me?" Draco growled.

"Studying might help your mind remember," the Professor told him. "Miss Granger can help you. She's very smart and knows her work."

Draco dreaded the idea of asking Hermione Granger for help of any kind. He saw her blush at the Professor's compliment. "I know how to study," he sneered, delighting at the sight of Granger's blush disappearing. "I don't need some silly girl helping me."

(II) (II)

Hermione threw her book down. She just couldn't concentrate any more. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the refrigerator. After taking a long swallow, she leaned against the counter and sighed.

Her mother stood next to her, chopping an onion. "Studying hard, dear?" she asked, her eyes watery.

Hermione nodded. "Naturally. There's nothing else to do. Dumbledore has suggested that I not tell Harry or Ron about Malfoy just yet. He wants me to wait until Malfoy gets better."

"Perhaps you should ask Draco to go off with you. Get out of the house and do something," her mother offered. "It's not healthy for two young people like you to stay cooped up all day, every day studying. Young people should enjoy life. Lord knows what will happen to the two of you this year at school."

"Mum, the last thing I want to do is anything with Draco Malfoy," Hermione replied. "He's arrogant, snotty, and spoiled."

"Sounds like someone else I know," her mother grumbled. "Did you know he's also a gentleman? He helped me with the groceries yesterday. Picked up a particularly heavy box of bottled water without me even asking him to. Of course, I think it was just instinct. I'm sure he didn't really mean it. After all, he scampered back up to his room shortly after."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't expect him to be helpful with anything. I'm surprised he hasn't started trying to annoy me yet."

"He's also really cute," her mother interjected as though she hadn't heard her daughter. "With a face and body like his, I'm surprised you haven't started showing him off to your Muggle friends."

Hermione stared at her mother, stunned. "Haven't you heard a word of what I just said? His personality far overwhelms his looks."

"And have you bothered to really try to get to know him?" the older woman inquired. "How do you know his actions aren't a learned front? Some way for him to get attention? I'll bet if you took the time to get to know him, you'll find a gentle, fun boy who's just yearning for some attention and possibly even love."

Now Hermione laughed, "Love? Now I know you've gone mental. I don't think Malfoy even knows the meaning of the word. And I'm certainly not going to teach him."

"Hand me some celery," her mother instructed. As her daughter did as she was told, the woman continued, "Yesterday, when I came home from the store, not only did Draco help me with the bottled water, but he also took several bags. And, he opened the front door for me as well, though he was heavily laden and I had only two bags. I'm guessing he had been in the kitchen and heard me pull up. He was at my car before I even had a chance to open the car door."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Hermione asked, giving her mother a confused look.

Her mother just shrugged. "He may be spoiled, but so are you. You are also just as arrogant and stubborn as he. His parents must have done something right, however, because, without meaning to, he can be a pretty nice guy."

Hermione scoffed, "'Malfoy' and 'nice' are two words that do not belong in the same sentence."

She drank the rest of her water and sighed, "Fine. I'll ask him to go. But, I'm not forcing him out the house by wand point. If he doesn't wish to go, then he can stay behind."

After tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin, Hermione made her way back upstairs. Asking Draco Malfoy to go anywhere was a nightmare. She just prayed he'd say no.

She softly rapped on the door with her knuckles. Maybe he wouldn't answer? Then she wouldn't have to ask him! That would be so wonderfully glorious. She could go back to her studying and...

The rest of her thoughts were lost as Malfoy opened the door and stood in the threshold. Did he think he looked good without a shirt on or something? She wondered. Well, of course he did! Because... well, he _did_ look good without a shirt on.

Trying not to think of how good he looked, Hermione pierced her lips. "Why aren't you dressed?" she demanded a little more forcefully than she had intended.

"What do you want, Granger?" he retorted, ignoring her question.

_To fall into your arms again_, she thought. Her mother was right about his looks. She looked into his gray eyes and briefly wondered if it were possible to drown in their depths. Then, she remembered he was Malfoy. Malfoy might be nice to look at, but that was the only thing nice about him.

"I'm going to London today," she told him. "Would you care to join me? You don't have to, but if you would like..."

"What are you going to do in London?" he interrupted.

She shrugged. She really had no clue. "Well, I could go to the bowling alley. I haven't been there in a long time. I've been studying so hard, I thought I'd take a break. It wouldn't hurt for you to take a break as well."

She could tell Malfoy wasn't convinced. "Since when did you decide to take breaks from studying?" he questioned, folding his arms over his bare chest.

At first, she thought the gesture was a tease. To show how his muscles bunched up and... It wasn't. Silently berating herself, she put her hands on her hips and snapped, "If you don't want to go, then say so. Don't just stand there and..."

"I'll go," he interrupted again. "I just need to put a shirt on"-- _Thank God!_, she thought -- "I've never heard of a bowling alley, though."

A smile crept over her mouth. She just mischievously nodded and turned to walk away.


	4. Chapter Three

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Three

Draco now understood why he had never heard of bowling. It was a Muggle sport. He looked down at the ugly shoes Granger had given him to put on. She was mad if she thought he'd wear such ridiculous things.

He glanced around him at the many people there. The bowling alley seemed to be a very jubilant place. People of all ages and sizes were there, bowling, playing something called "pool", eating "pizza", and drinking "beer." Loud music performed by bands he had never heard of played from "speakers" overhead.

However, the most intriguing part was the game itself. At first, Draco had bulked at it, thought it would be more boring than reading books in his room. (Which is what he had been doing before.)

He watched Granger in fascination as she rolled the ball to the pins. In one hit, the ball managed to knock down every pin. "Strike! Yes!" she exclaimed, as she did a small victory dance.

Draco had to stop himself from smiling at her as she walked towards him. "Bowling is easy," she told him. "My father and I used to come here every weekend. He was part of a league and I..."

"Interesting," he drawled sarcastically, interrupting her.

She shot him a dirty look. Thankfully, she made no comment. Instead, she looked down at his feet. "Why haven't you put on your shoes?"

He sneered, "I refuse to wear something so hideous. How Muggles can stand to wear them is beyond me."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're going to bowl, you have to wear them. If not, then there's no point in us being here. We might as well leave."

"This was your idea," he reminded her. "I would've been content to stay at the house."

"So, why did you agree to come?" she retorted, hands on her hips.

She actually looked cute when she was annoyed. He caught himself before he could think further. He had to be going mental. Granger look cute?

Why couldn't he think she was cute? Regardless of her heritage, she was still a girl. And he was a guy. As long as he didn't follow through with his thoughts, he could think anything he wished. He smirked as he answered her in a whisper, "I couldn't get over the look in your eyes when you saw me shirtless." Then, a bit louder, he added, "Besides, I was bored."

Why he was teasing her, he would never know. He bent down and began putting the wretched shoes on. After all, he wasn't ready to return to the house. He was having fun with her.

She was a Mudblood. She was a member of a race of people he wouldn't never be caught being around. And yet, here he was playing a Muggle game with a Mudblood. And he was enjoying himself. Not being able to do magic was starting to take it's toll on him.

He walked over to the ball deposit and picked up a green ball. Immediately, he felt the weight of the ball as he nearly dropped it. He knew she stood behind him, blushing and surprised, but he paid no attention to her. He didn't need to start anything with her.

"Good God," he said, changing the subject, "this thing is heavy!"

"What look?" she demanded.

He turned to look at her, confused. "I didn't say 'look'," he replied. "I said 'heavy'. This thing is heavy."

She snapped, "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

And she was right. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He just preferred not to talk about it. "Are you going to show me how to bowl?" he questioned, annoyed.

"Are you going to answer my question?" she shot back.

"What question?" he growled, pretending to be oblivious.

She rolled her eyes as she responded, "You said I gave you a look earlier when I saw you without a shirt. What look are you talking about?"

He shook his head as he turned the ball in his hands. "If you don't know what look I'm talking about, then there's no point in discussing it," he answered.

He knew he had to put his fingers in the three holes. He had seen Granger do it moments ago. He looked at the pins at the end of the lane. He knew he had to roll the ball to the pins, as well.

Draco stopped himself from smiling when he heard her aspirated sigh. She stepped up next to him. "You're holding that ball the wrong way," she fussed.

"Only because you won't show me how," he retorted. He didn't know why, but seeing her flustered amused him.

She took the ball from him and groaned. The ball nearly fell from her grasps. "First, you need a much lighter ball," she instructed. "This ball is way too heavy. If you've never bowled before, it's always best to start with a lighter ball. At least until you get used to the weight."

She put the ball back on the rack and looked over the other balls. She selected a bright orange one, which she handed to him. "This is much better," she said.

"It's orange," he complained, scowling. "Why is everything so ugly? Do Muggles not have a sense of style?"

She rolled her eyes. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Malfoy," she commented. "Besides, as long as it's functional, who cares what it looks like?"

He raised an eyebrow. There were so many comments he could have made, would have made, but he checked himself. He did not care to argue his point at the moment.

She turned the ball around in his hands until the three holes pointed upward. "Your thumb goes in the big hole while your index finger and middle finger go in the smaller holes. Like this," she explained as she demonstrated.

Again, he restrained himself from commenting. It seemed his hormones were trying to take over. He was having a very difficult time keeping them in check. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him. She was a Mudblood, after all.

She then demonstrated how to hold and roll the ball. "At this point," she told him, holding the ball at about a forty-five degree angle, "you let the ball go. Your wrist should naturally bring your hand forward allowing the ball to move forward. Be careful not to step on the lane itself. It's very slippery, designed for the ball to pick up speed as it rolls down then lane."

He nodded in understanding, not trusting himself to speak. There was something slightly erotic about the way she explained bowling. Even though she hadn't meant it to be erotic, it was nevertheless. But, she was a Mudblood.

She handed the ball back to him and he stepped up to the lane. He could feel her eyes on him and, knowing she couldn't see his face, allowed himself to smirk a bit. Then, he silently berated himself, blaming his hormones for the smirk.

He pulled his arm back into the sweeping motion Granger had shown him. As he brought his arm forward, he let go of the ball. Too soon. The ball dropped and rolled the opposite direction. The sound of Granger's giggle caused him to turn on her in fury. "You think that's funny, do you?" he hissed.

She waved a hand as she shook her head. Her laughter stopped as she apologized, "I didn't mean to laugh. I've done that before myself. Several times, actually. Here."

She retrieved the ball and approached him. She handed him the ball and turned him around by the shoulders. Curious, he started to ask, "What are you..."

"Shh," she whispered in his ear.

The feel of her breath so intimately close sent a shiver down his spine. It was a pleasant feeling and it almost caused him to moan in delight. Before he could, however, he stopped himself. The damn Mudblood was starting to get to him.

He allowed her to guide him through the motions. The feel of her hand gliding down his arm threatened his self control. She stood really close to him, too. He could feel the small gap between his back and her front. He had to stop himself from turning around and pulling her close. Stop himself from kissing her. She was a Mudblood.

She pulled the arm that held the ball. Then, with her other hand pressed firmly on the small of his back-- which caused another shiver to go through his body-- she began to push him gently forward. At the last moment, she let go.

His arm swung forward and he let go of the ball, all the while stopping in his tracks. He watched as the ball rolled towards the pins. He had done it! He had managed to bowl! Then, the ball made an unexpected turn and rolled into the side of the lane and passed the pins.

"Oh, no!" he heard her groan. "A gutter ball! That's okay. You get another shot."

He turned and looked at her curiously. "What's a..."

"Hey, beautiful," interrupted a voice, which was followed by a wolf whistle. "Teaching' yer boyfriend 'ow to bowl?"

The teenagers turned to see three men watching them. Well, they were watching Granger. Draco found he did not like the look they were giving her. He could tell they were all middle-aged. Sick bastards. Probably married, too. With kids Granger's age. They probably knew Granger was too young for them, too.

"Well, lassie," said the second man. "Per'aps, ye should let us show 'im 'ow real men bowl."

The third smirked sardonically. "And how real men treat fine girls like yerself," he added.

Coldly, Granger replied, "Not interested." She turned to Draco and whispered, "Just ignore them."

But, he couldn't. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the three men. He told himself that their lecherous looks at Granger did not bother him. Nearly convinced himself of it. No, it wasn't that that annoyed him. It was the fact they had referred to him, Draco Malfoy, as her boyfriend. As if he would ever date a Mudblood!

Though Granger ignored them and Draco shot them dirty looks, they continued to approach the teens. Draco knew he was no match against three burly Muggles. Especially being magic less. He grabbed Granger's arm and hissed in her ear, "Let's go, Granger."

One of the men must have heard him, for he questioned, "Granger? As in Henry Granger?"

Granger turned to the man curiously. "Yes. That's my father," she answered him.

"Well, slap me silly!" he exclaimed. "I've not seen Granger in ages! Ole friends 'e 'n I. Went ter school wit' 'im. Damn fine bowler. Bet 'e taught 'is daughter a trick or two."

"Just a few," she admitted sheepishly.

Before Draco could blink, the three men had changed. Their leering had stopped. They wanted to be friends. To shake Draco's hand. These Muggles had a few screws loose. Like hell was he going to be nice! "Wait a minute!" he stopped them, pulling Granger even closer to him. "Are you daft? First you were hitting on her and disregarding me. Now you wish to be mates? All because you know her father? Sorry lot you are. She's fifteen years old. Furthermore, she's with me. We were playing a game which you rudely interrupted. Not to talk about her father, but instead to..."

"Malfoy!" Granger interrupted, trying to yank her arm out of his grasp to no avail. "Let go of me. You're acting like you're my boyfriend or something."

The second man asked curiously, "Is 'e yer boyfriend?"

"Yes," Draco replied at the same time Granger said, "No."

The teenagers glared at each other. "He's my distant... cousin," Granger tried to explain.

"Don't lie, Hermione," Draco reprimanded, sneering. He glanced at the three men. "We've been together for about five years now. Met in school. She likes to claim relation when she's angry with me."

"If you think I'm angry now, wait until we get home," she hissed.

The second man raised an eyebrow and smiled. It was clear he did not believe Draco. "Prove it. Iffen she's yer girlfriend, then kiss 'er. She shouldn't object."

Draco hesitated. Kiss Granger? What did he have to prove to these men? It was a lie anyway. He didn't date Mudbloods.

He looked at Granger. She was just as surprised by his lie as he was. She was probably shocked he had said it. He glanced around him. Muggles were everywhere. There wasn't a single schoolmate in sight.

He had to do something. To linger longer would prove his tale was a lie. But to kiss Granger was unthinkable. "I don't have to prove anything," he growled. "Besides, she's angry with me. If I try to kiss her, she's liable to slap me."

The men laughed. "So, she's not yer girlfriend, then?" the first man asked.

Draco could feel his face redden with anger. "She is my girlfriend," he confirmed.

"And yet, ye won't kiss 'er?" the third man questioned. "What a sad boyfriend ye are!"

Draco couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't dumb enough to resort to throwing punches. The men were twice his size and obviously stronger. Granger, it was apparent, had no intention of leaving.

He pulled her close to him and stared down into her honey orbs. Frightened, she stammered, "M-Malfoy? Wh-what are you doing?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her softly on the lips. What happened next was beyond his control.

All the tension he had felt from the moment he had opened his bedroom door seemed to overcome him. He slowly tried to deepen the kiss, teasing her lips to part with the tip of his tongue. He felt exhilarated when she responded to him, parting her lips a bit to invite him inside. He accepted passionately. Her taste, the feel of her tongue running along his was incredible. The entire world seemed to stop and center itself on their kiss.

And then, it was over. He felt her give him one last kiss, then she broke the kiss by turning her head away from him. He slowly opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and looked down at her. Electricity still sparked in the air around them. He was sorely tempted to pull her into another kiss.

"Was tha' yer first kiss?" the second man's question broke the trance.

Draco glanced up to the man while holding Granger around the waist. He had just kissed Granger! "Every kiss feels like the first kiss," he responded hoarsely, unable to grasp the idea he had just kissed the Mudblood. "Now, if you three don't mind, I would like to return to my date."

The men nodded, but the first one growled, "If ye 'urt 'er, I'll 'elp Henry hunt ye down. 'E's a good friend and I will not.."

"So good you were able to recognize his daughter?" Draco interrupted, with a sneer. "I don't have time for your lame threats."

He felt her tug on his shirt and he glanced down. He was slowly reclaiming his control. He had to stop himself from kissing her again. The pleading look in her honey eyes was almost enough to make him lose it.

When he heard the men leave, muttering curses under their breath, he broke the hold he had on her. Stepping out of the embrace, he straightened his throat and turned his attention back to bowling. She was a Mudblood.

He picked up his orange ball and aligned himself with the lane. It was still his turn according to her. The kiss was still sizzling on his mind when he let go of the ball and watched it roll towards the pins. This time, it made contact and knocked down five pins. He smiled to himself, pleased.

His smile changed into a frown when he turned and saw her staring at him in shock. "What?" he felt compelled to ask.

"You kissed me," she whispered in disbelief.

He raised an eyebrow. "So?" he replied. "I had to make my story believable. Otherwise, they never would have left."

"You kissed me," she repeated, clearly not believing the words coming from her mouth.

And such a wonderful mouth it was too. Tender and perfectly refined for his tastes. He scowled, "Get over it, Granger. It's not like I enjoyed it," he lied. "I just wanted them to leave. Kissing Mudbloods is not my idea of fun. I promise it won't happen again."

He watched as her face went from shock to anger. "There you go with that bloody name again!" she shouted. "I'm so sick of you saying that word. My name is Hermione Granger. You can call me Hermione or you can call me Granger. But, call me a Mudblood again and I swear, Draco Malfoy, I will hex you!"

She turned on her heel and stormed out. Knowing she was leaving, Draco followed her. He had to grab the exit door to keep it from swinging in his face. When they got to the pavement, he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Let go of me, Malfoy!" she snarled, trying to yank her arm away. He held her firmly, forcing her to look at him.

"I didn't mean to call you that," he told her. "I call all Mud-- Muggle-borns that name. It's just a habit."

"You don't kiss a girl like that and then call her a Mudblood," she scolded. "It's tactless and rude."

He could see the tears in her eyes and it surprised him. "You actually enjoyed it?" he found himself asking without thinking.

She huffed, "Of course not. It was horrible. The worst kiss in the world," she snapped. He could tell she was lying, but he still felt the daggers. "Viktor Krum was a much better kisser. And he was a lot more tactful about it."

Being compared to another guy was more than Draco could handle. "Then you should kiss him more," he sneered. "Or better yet, why don't you kiss Weasel? We both know how much he loves Muggles. Hell, Potty might like a good snogging from you. His mother was a Mudblood, so you know he..."

Her slap echoed off the walls of the building. He lifted a hand to his face where she had connected. He could feel the slight sting and knew it was probably turning red.

She reached into her pocket and took out a small box. Thinking she might try to hit him with it, he readied himself. Instead, to his utter amazement, she pressed a few buttons on it and put it up to her ear. She then started talking... to herself. "Mum? Yeah. We need you to come pick us up.. I'm fine... No... All right. See you in a bit."

She pressed another button and tucked the object away. "What was that?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes as he stared at her in confusion. "A cell phone," she answered. "Muggle communication. You wouldn't understand."

Like her, Draco was still seething from their argument. "I'm not apologizing again," he told her. "I said it once and then you slapped me."

Her face contorted in anger. "You call that an apology? I've heard better apologies from snakes!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to start talking about snogging Viktor Krum," he snapped.

"I wasn't talking about..."

"Don't lie!" he interrupted. "You said Krum was a better kisser than me. I heard you say it. I never meant to kiss you. It was a stupid mistake that I don't intend to repeat."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you jealous of Viktor Krum?"

"No!" he denied. "I'm just pissed because of what you said. You talk about me being untactful, but yet you're a tactless little bitch."

Just then, Granger's mother pulled up. He waited for the girl to slap him again, but she didn't. Instead, she wretched the passenger door open and got in the car, slamming the door shut. Draco climbing into the back seat.

"Seat belts," the older woman chimed.

The teenagers locked themselves in as she pulled away. As they drove off, Granger spoke up, "And I'm not fifteen. I'm sixteen."


	5. Chapter Four

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Four

Throughout the entire trip home, no one made a sound. Even the radio was quiet, for Hermione had shut it off. Hermione's mother did not question the teenagers about their moods, preferring to wait until later.

The moment they parked outside the house, Hermione threw open her door and hopped out of the car. She stormed into the house. She knew Malfoy and her mother were following, Malfoy close behind, but she did not care.

She stomped up to her room and slammed her bedroom door. She was careful to lock the door for she wanted to see no one. She plopped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. In an effort to relieve more anger, she threw the pillow at the wall.

She wanted to beat Malfoy to a bloody pulp. To make him suffer as she had. She had never been this angry at him. Never this hurt by his words. And he did hurt her. He hurt her so much, she could strangle him.

Truth was, she was scared. That kiss affected her a lot more than she cared to admit. Furthermore, his callousness and indifference to it all cut through her like a knife through butter. How could he kiss her like that and then act so... shallow? Didn't he feel what she had felt? Was he even capable of feeling anything?

His apology had seemed sincere at first, but then he had covered it with an insult. He asked her if she had enjoyed it. Well, hadn't he?

No. He had told her as much. He hated it. He hated kissing a Mudblood. That's how he saw her. Just another filthy little Mudblood. And that hurt.

Wait. What was she thinking?! Disgusted with herself, she growled. She had kissed Draco Malfoy! Actually, he kissed her and she returned it!

Now that she was away from him, she could freely admit that she had enjoyed it. It was like heaven on earth the way he held her, teased her lips tenderly with his tongue... Now she was even more disgusted with herself. Hermione Granger kissed Draco Malfoy? EW!

But, she could recall the taste of him. He tasted like caramel with a hint of chocolate. He was a sweet treat to her tongue and lips. And the way he held her, cradling her face with one hand as he supported her waist and pulled her closer with his other...

She berated herself for the turn of her thoughts. Revulsion washed over her like a mudslide. That she would even think about him in any way...

But he had been so gentle. So soft. His body had been strong and tense beneath her hands. They had melded into one another so perfectly. She knew what lay beneath his clothes. Knew what he looked like, for the most part. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of him. To kiss him senseless and lick every juicy bit...

"Oh, my God!" she chastised herself, standing up and pacing the room.

What the bloody hell was she thinking?! This was Draco Malfoy! He was cold and heartless. An asshole of the highest standard. He hated her. Hated everything about her. The feeling was mutual.

She seriously considered placing a memory charm on herself. Anything to get rid of the memory of that horrible kiss.

The worst part about it was, it hadn't been horrible. It had been perfect. Underneath that mask of hatred, Malfoy was incredible. She had actually enjoyed it. That realization made her feel terrible. Guilty.

What happened to her? What had he done? What had she done?

She knew how Harry and Ron would react to the situation. Oh, God! She had betrayed them. Betrayed everything!

How could she have been so selfish? It wasn't just about kissing "some" guy. She had kissed Draco Malfoy, the only son of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. And she had enjoyed it.

What kind of friend kisses her best friends' enemy and enjoys it? How horrible was she to do such a thing?

Feeling even worse, Hermione began to cry. She was hurt and disgusted. She wanted to throttle Malfoy for kissing her. More importantly, she wanted to throttle herself for kissing him.

Sighing, she went to her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. She opened her ink jar and dipped her quill into the ink. Carefully, she began to write:

_Dear Harry,_

She paused as she tried to think of what to say. She hadn't written to Ron or Harry in two weeks. How could she express her guilt in a way they would understand?

Angry with herself, she pushed the paper and quill away. She just couldn't bring herself to tell them. It was just a kiss, after all. Grant it, she had never really kissed a guy before, especially not like that. She had never experienced...

It was just a kiss. No need to upset her friends. Besides, it wasn't going to happen again. Malfoy made that perfectly clear.

(II)

(II)

Visions of Granger in that beautiful lavender gown played within his mind. He dreamed of her walking down the stairway at Hogwarts. She was radiant, her smile lightened up her face, reminding him of an angel.

It was the Yule Ball. But, it was different. This time, she wasn't smiling at Krum. She was smiling at Draco. As she reached the bottom of the steps, he held out his arm for her. She graciously accepted and he led her into the Great Hall. He was the luckiest boy in the world.

Everyone else in the room had ceased to exist. Draco and Hermione were alone. Soft music played endlessly from the heavens. Her constant smile warmed his heart. Almost as if it were meant to be, their bodies moved perfectly to the music. Her laughter as he twirled her around only added to the atmosphere.

And then they kissed. It was a slow passionate kiss which spoke of the longing in both their hearts. The world had stopped turning and they graciously delved into one another. Their hearts and souls combined into one.

Draco awoke with a start. He could still feel Granger's lips on his. The sensations of the vivid dream mixed with his already confused emotions. Hermione Granger was a Mudblood.

All his life, Draco had been taught that Mudbloods were a worthless waste of space. They stole magical education and rights from those who truly deserved it. They were odd, they were strange. They just weren't... right.

The complete opposite of a Squib, Mudbloods did not fit into the society in which they were brought up. And because they are brought up by Muggles, they really didn't fit into the Wizarding Community either. Mudbloods took up the wizards' natural resources and threatened the very existence of wizard kind.

History spoke quite clearly of what Muggles thought of those born to magic. Witch hunts littered a bloody path thought wizard history like broken glass in an abandoned warehouse. Witches and wizards had suffered horribly among Muggles. So, to remain safe, the Wizarding Community had gone into hiding.

For years a peaceful existence had occurred among the wizards. Life had begun to reclaim itself.

That changed when Mudbloods began to appear. These freaks of nature who had no clue about magic or the magical world had reopened old wounds. Witch hunts started up again and many innocent lives had been lost. Worse, wizards and witches began to take Mudbloods in, treating them as equals. Even breeding with them.

Draco sighed. Mudbloods just didn't belong. They weren't proper, weren't right. They had cost countless innocents their lives.

And yet, Draco could not get the picture of Granger in that dress out of his mind. Her lips were brandished on his.

He needed a cold shower.

He got up and went to his dresser. He took out a change of clothes and then headed to the bathroom. About thirty minutes later, he emerged feeling refreshed. The cold shower was exactly what he had needed.

He went downstairs, taking the stairs three at a time and headed to the kitchen. A large glass of cold milk would do him some good.

Turning the light on, he jumped when he saw Mrs. Granger sitting at the counter. She was sipping a cup of coffee and smiling at him.

"Good evening, Draco. You're up late," she greeted quietly.

"Why were you sitting in the dark?" he asked as he opened the refrigerator.

She shrugged. "I normally do. I figure it's the best way to keep from waking the others. I grew up in a small three bedroom house," she explained. "Seemed I would always wake someone, so I kept the lights off."

He nodded, but did not really understand. He took the milk out and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. After pouring himself some milk, he returned the carton to the refrigerator before leaning up against the counter and taking a sip.

"I heard you taking a shower," she commented. "Do you usually bathe so late? Or is something bothering you?"

For a moment, he did not respond. He sipped his milk and then answered, "I don't take late showers. I had a disturbing dream and thought a shower would help."

"And did it help?" she inquired.

He thought about it a moment. Did the shower really help? He shrugged. "I suppose so. Though, not really in the way I intended."

She nodded. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he told her. "I just... I said something to your daughter that I hadn't meant to say."

"Did you apologize?" she questioned.

"I tried to," he replied, truthfully, "but it seemed to make things worse. She got defensive and it escalated until she slapped me. I don't even know what I had said to cause her to slap me."

Mrs. Granger gave him a soft smile. "Hermione has her father's temper. She's stubborn, too. And it's hard for her to forgive easily. Especially after such a profound kiss..."

His eyes widened as he stared at her. "She told you?"

She shook her head. "One of Mr. Granger's friends, a man named Bruce, called earlier and told me about it. Said it was worse than watching a romance movie," she giggled.

Draco paled. He didn't know what a "movie" was, but he knew what romance was. "I never meant to kiss her," he said. "There were three men bothering her. I got defensive, so I told them I was her boyfriend and to bug off. They told me to prove it and when I refused, they kept pressuring me. So, I kissed her."

"According to Bruce, it was more than just a kiss," she sighed. "He told me there was a lot of feeling behind it. As if the two of you had forgotten anyone else existed. He was so ashamed of witnessing such a pure moment, he turned away."

"Bruce must've been one of the three guys," Draco surmised. "If so, he was hitting on her, even after he realized who she was."

She giggled again, "Yes, that would be Bruce. Dirty old man. He doesn't mean anything by it. Probably was just trying to get under your skin."

"Well, it worked," he snorted. "Now Granger's mad at me and I don't know what to do."

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow. "You could always by not calling her 'Granger.' Using a last name formalizes it. It makes an apology seem less sincere, less real. Almost forced, even."

He creased his eyebrows. "But, I've always called her 'Granger.' I don't consider her my friend, so I..."

"And yet you are staying under her roof," she softly interrupted. "Did you know that Hermione is the one who took care of you while you were out? She rarely left that room save for her privy times. She ate, slept, and studied in there, waiting for you to wake up. She checked you constantly and even gave you sponge baths. She made sure you ate, too, though how she did it, I am unsure. When you stirred or moaned, she would take your hand and say your name, hoping you would wake. She would pray for you to wake and be all right. She even argued with your mother."

"Argued with my mother?" he asked.

She nodded. "Mrs. Malfoy came by one day after you were released. In fact, the very day after. She had all your school things with her. Hermione was angry, telling the woman she needed to care for her son. The argument was nasty. Your mother called Hermione a Mudblood several times. Finally, Mr. Granger was able to calm them down before they resorted to a duel, though I don't know how. He agreed with your mother to keep you here. Said you didn't need to be moved anymore than you already had.

"Hermione didn't like it. She kept saying you needed to be in familiar surroundings. You had been traumatized, she was certain. You needed proper care and support from those who love you.

"I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on at your home. Your mother seemed to think it was too unsafe there for you. So, she asked if we could keep you until you either got better or school started. And we agreed. Hermione hadn't left your side since," she finished.

This surprised Draco. Not only had Granger attempted to defend him, but she had taken care of him. She had even... Paling, he hurriedly asked, "You said she bathed me. She didn't.. well, you know.. bathe me... there, did she?"

He suddenly felt both violated and intrigued. Visions of Granger touching him there threatened to take form. He shook his head to get rid of them. He would need another cold shower.

Mrs. Granger laughed, "Heavens, no! She was very adamant about that. Told us both that under no circumstances was she going to go anywhere near... 'there'. She mostly just wiped down your arms and legs to stimulate circulation. Your face, too. She would spend a lot of time wiping your face. I guess she thought it might wake you."

Despite their bitter background, Granger had still managed to treat him with kindness and respect. It was probably more than he would have ever done for her. In fact, he knew it was more than he would ever have done for her.

Ever so slowly, memories of what he had originally thought of Mudbloods, at least of one Mudblood, had begun to disappear. "I want to do something for her," he said suddenly, overcome with emotion. "I know I can't really repay her in full, but there must be something. Perhaps a gift of some sort."

Mrs. Granger smiled. "You know, you're not half as bad as Hermione claims. I do see some of what she says sometimes, but not always."

He shook his head. "It's late and I'm tired," he replied. "Knowing her, she's got me pegged right. I'm just not showing it right now."

She nodded. "Well, if that's the case, pink roses are Hermione's favourite. And she loves warm bagels with butter and strawberry jam in the morning."

The older woman got up, bid him a goodnight, and went up the stairs. Draco finished his milk and smiled broadly.

(III)

(III)

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. She felt rejuvenated after her night's sleep. It had been exactly what she needed. She turned onto her side and nearly jumped out of her bed.

Sitting on her nightstand was a beautiful boutique of pink roses with leather leaf and baby's breath accents. Curiosity sparked her interest as she sat up, wondering who had left them.

A small white envelope sat within the boutique. She carefully took it out, amazed at the delicate way her name was penned in gold ink. She turned it around and was further surprised to see the envelope was sealed with the Gryffindor crest. She gently broke the seal and carefully pulled the white card out. Opening it, she read:

_I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please accept this small token of my deepest apologies._

It wasn't signed. She flipped it over, but still did not see any indication as to who sent it to her. She turned her attention back to the flowers. They were extremely beautiful and smelled wonderful.

She sat back and pondered over the mystery. Who would have to apologize for anything? Well, she knew one person, but he would never apologize. Especially not him. He was far too arrogant and prideful.

Still curious, but willing to think it over, she put the card back and set about getting dressed. Normally, she was an early riser .Preferring to get up as soon as possible so she could start the day. Today though, she had overslept a bit.

Dressed in a pink t-shirt and faded jeans, Hermione made her way downstairs. She was greeted in the living room by Malfoy. "Good morning," he said to her brightly. "Here, allow me to escort you to the breakfast table."

To her surprise, he held out his hand for her. She gingerly took it, casting him an odd look, and allowed him to lead her to the table. He pulled out her chair for her and, once she was seated, he scooted the chair closer to the table. "Now, don't move," he told her as he walked into the kitchen.

Surprised, she watched him pick up two plates and dig some forks out of the drawer. He brought the plates out and set one before her and the other in his spot. "I hope you like pancakes. Your mum had suggested bagels, but I thought pancakes would be better. Seeing as you eat them all the time at school," he commented, throwing her a dashing smile.

Sheer amazement kept her from saying anything as he went back into the kitchen. He returned moments later with two glasses and a jug of orange juice. After pouring the juice in both glasses and setting the glasses in their appropriate places, he returned to the kitchen and brought out a stack of pancakes. Using a spatula, he put half of the pancakes on her plate and the other half on his own.

He returned to the kitchen one last time and brought back a pitcher of syrup. He placed the syrup on the table. "Be careful," he warned. "It's really hot."

She stared at him dumbfounded as he took his seat. "Did you bump your head last night?" she questioned.

He cast her a charming smile and shook his head. "Both of your parents left for work, so I thought I would fix breakfast."

"You fixed this?" she questioned, astounded.

He laughed, "I wish! No, sadly I burned the original batch. So, I looked in the 'phonebook' and called a nearby diner that delivers breakfast. While waiting, I called the florist and ordered those flowers."

"_You _bought those flowers?" she inquired, shocked. "Where did you get the seal? Muggles don't know anything about Hogwarts. And when did you learn to use a phone?"

He poured some syrup over his pancakes and began cutting them with his fork. "A 'phone' isn't hard to figure out. Your mum showed me this morning. As for the seal, I nicked it."

"From where?"

He used his fork to point at her. "You," he answered. "Well, actually, your mum nicked it from some of your old school things. A pack of stickers you had gotten when you first started school."

"Are you sure you didn't bump your head?" she asked.

He nodded as he took a bite of his pancakes. "I thought it'd be nice after what I did yesterday."

Now she knew she was losing it. Or she was dreaming. "Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?" she demanded.

He raised a quirky eyebrow. "I would actually prefer it if you called me Draco," he told her. "I had an epiphany last night."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Of course," he responded. "You and I have always been on the outs. I never really liked you and you never really liked me. What's the basis for our judgments of one another? No, don't answer that," he quickly added when she opened her mouth to speak. "Truth is, we really don't know one another. We know some things. I know you are Muggle-born and you like to read. But, I don't know your favourite book or author. You're a really good witch. The smartest in our class. And that means a lot to come from a pureblood like me."

She snapped at him hotly, "I don't need your approval."

"I was offering a compliment, Hermione," he calmly stated. "I'm a pureblood. Possibly moreso than Weasley, especially in mind. For me to admit that a Muggle-born is better than I am at something is saying a lot. More than you probably realize, actually."

"So, what? Do you like me now?" she inquired.

He shook his head. "No, I don't know you well enough to like you. I don't know you well enough to dislike you either," he explained.

"So, you wish to get to know me?" she guessed, still thinking she was dreaming.

He smiled. "I would like to get to know you," he answered. "But, only if you don't mind getting to know me as well."

"Um, okay," she slowly agreed.

Still smiling, he stood up and walked around the table to her. He held out his left hand. "Hello. I am Draco Malfoy, but you may simply call me Draco," he introduced himself.

Feeling silly, she stood up and looked into his gray eyes. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said a bit clumsily, placing her hand in his.

"May I call you Hermione?" he asked sweetly.

"Um, sure," she confirmed.

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."


	6. Chapter Five

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Five

Draco stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He was quite pleased with the way he was dressed. The black slacks and black dress shirt fit him well, He had his hair slicked back and his gray eyes shown brightly. He looked good.

As he stood there, he went over everything that had happened the past few days. The new direction he had taken with Hermione was challenging, but interesting. It was difficult, very difficult. There were moment when he would have to catch himself before saying something particularly nasty. Thankfully, he had arranged with the florist to deliver fresh cut roses every morning.

The hardest part for him, aside from his general dislike of Muggles, was learning all the Muggle things. But, Hermione was a good teacher. In no time, he learned how to use the "television" and "microwave." Though the computer was beyond him. So, he satisfied himself by watching Hermione "surf the web" and "check her email."

He missed home terribly. He worried about his parents, wondering if they were okay. Was his father still in prison? Or had the Dark Lord forgiven him?

Hermione had suggested writing to his parents. He almost took her advice, but then decided against it. He did not want them to know how good things were going. Hermione was, after all, a Mudblood. His parents wouldn't be too thrilled learning their pureblood son was having fun with a filthy Mudblood.

But, he was having fun. He thoroughly enjoyed himself with her. This start over, though it was challenging, was entertaining. When she wasn't studying, Hermione was an enjoyment to be around. They laughed, joked, and did things together. Mostly it was playing Muggle "board games" and talking, but it was still fun. And, thankfully, Hermione had decided against returning to the bowling alley.

He pushed back a stray hair and smiled to himself. A couple days ago, one of Hermione's Muggle friends had invited her to a party. Hermione had asked Draco to join her. "Not as a date," she had quickly rectified, "but as a friend. Otherwise, I'll be the only one there without someone."

He shouldn't have cared that she didn't have someone to attend with her. And yet, he agreed to go. Course, he did not know the first thing about Muggle parties. Hermione had tried to introduce him to Muggle music, but only managed to confuse him. She then tried to show him Muggle dancing, which was like wizard dancing, but without the flair.

Draco found he enjoyed the time he spent with Hermione. She was not as bad as he had originally thought. She was a bit spoiled and bossy, but so was he.

Now he was going to a Muggle party... Yeah, what his parents didn't know, couldn't hurt them...

He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way downstairs. Mrs. Granger greeted him with a smile and a camera. "Oh, you look so handsome," she commented. "Come now, I must get a picture."

She took him by the hand and led him to the fireplace. "Now, just stand there and smile for me," she directed.

He raised an eyebrow, but did as he was asked. "Is Hermione ready?"

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "Women take thirty minutes alone just to fix their hair. Not to mention showering, finding the perfect outfit, and doing our makeup. All of that takes at least two hours. And that's if we get it right the first time!"

He looked up at the clock and groaned. It was all ready a quarter to six. The party was for seven. "This party isn't far, is it?" he inquired.

He took a seat on the couch as she answered, "Only about a ten minute drive. Hermione told me you'd walk home, but she asked if her father and I would drop you off."

He nodded as Mr. Granger walking into the living room. "So, are you ready, son?" the older man inquired.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He bit his tongue to keep himself from reminding the man, quite nastily, who his father was. Instead, he replied, rather tightly, "Yes, sir."

"And you know to treat my daughter with respect? She's a young lady and is to be treated as though she were a princess," Mr. Granger informed Draco.

The teenage boy could not miss the underlying message: Paws off. He gave the old man a cocky smile as he responded sarcastically, "I shall worship her like a goddess."

The sound of footsteps on the stair caused Draco to stand and look up. She wasn't dressed in a lavender gown and this wasn't the Yule Ball. But, she was beautiful.

She wore a deep red V-neck blouse that had billowing arms and a matching flair skirt. Her red heels were missing their toe and strapped themselves delicately around her ankles. Her hair was much tamer than usual, with bouncing curls accenting her heart shaped face. A delicate silver heart hung on a silver chain around her neck.

Draco could not move as she approached him. "You look beautiful," he thought he heard himself say. But, he hadn't felt the words come from his lips. Perhaps, he hadn't said them?

She smiled. No, he had said them. "Thank you," she replied. "You look nice yourself."

Now, more than ever, he remembered their first kiss. He wanted to taste her soft painted lips. Just once more.

"You two stand in front of the fireplace so I can get a picture," he heard Mrs. Granger say.

He let Hermione lead him to the fireplace. When their hands clasped together, he felt a bolt of electricity shoot through his body. His need for her overwhelmed his senses.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" she whispered to him during the short trip to the party.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't realize I was staring."

Of course, he continued to stare at her. He loved the way she looked. When she smiled at him, his heart melted. All he wanted was to remain by her side.

(II)  
(II)

They stepped into the night, her hand on the crook of his arm, and walked up to the house. She reached over and pressed the doorbell. A soft chime was quickly followed by a short, plump Muggle girl opening the door. She looked about their age. She had straight brown hair and was wearing a simple blue party dress. "Hermione!" the girl squealed, hugging Hermione.

Hermione returned the hug. "This is my friend Draco Malfoy," she introduced as Draco held out his hand for the girl. "Draco, this is my old schoolmate and friend, Martha Jones."

When Martha placed her hand in his, he briefly kissed the back of the girl's hand. "I'm also a schoolmate of Hermione's," he told her.

The Muggle girl giggled, "A dragon of ill faith? That is an interesting name you have there, Mr. Malfoy."

He suppressed the urge to comment. Instead, to his amazement, Hermione explained, "His family is actually of Roman and Greek decent. His father's name is Lucius. His mother is Narcissa."

Martha nodded her head. "A Roman Emperor and a Grecian flower. You know, Rome conquered Greece, Mr. Malfoy? Your family is living proof."

Draco did not quite know how to respond. Was she insulting him or complimenting him? He gave Hermione a confused look. She laughed merrily, "Martha's being silly, Draco. Think about it. Rome conquered Greece and bore modern ways. Your father conquered your mother and bore you."

He pierced his lips as the words sank in and he understood the connotations. "I did not expect to think about my father conquering my mother. Not tonight or any other night."

"Some thoughts are better left unspoken," Hermione agreed, wrinkling her nose.

"Then what fun are they?" Martha asked as she led them inside.

The sights and sounds amazed Draco. Muggles were every where, laughing and joking. Loud music was played by a "DJ" and the den had been turned into a dance floor. The kitchen and dining area had been turned into a bar and buffet. The living room was a sitting area for people to chat. "My mum set up the backyard as a sort of garden," Martha explained. "That's for the more serious couples who want a little bit of privacy, though."

As the music changed from a fast song to a slow song, Draco asked Hermione, "Would you like to dance?"

Hermione nodded and he led her to the dance floor. He did not know the song, but apparently Hermione did. She was softly singing it, "There's such a fooled heart

Beating so fast in search of new dreams

A love that will last within your heart

I'll place the moon within your heart."

When he smiled charmingly at her, she blushed sheepishly. "What song is this?" he asked her, noting the pale pink of her cheeks. So beautiful.

She laughed, "Martha is a huge David Bowie fan. This song is from the Labyrinth soundtrack. It's called 'As The World Falls Down.' You'll hear a lot of David Bowie tonight. As well as the Spice Girls and Elvis Presley."

He just looked at her befuddled. "I would ask, but I don't think I will," he told her. "Instead, I think I'll just enjoy the music and the company."

She nodded appreciatively." One day, I will introduce you to all the more interesting Muggle bands. There are quite a few good songs out there that even a pureblood like you would appreciate."

He cocked a smirk. "I'm still impressed from earlier. How did you know so much about my family?" he asked as he twirled her on the dance floor.

"Research," she said, simply. "Besides, Draco is a Latin name. As is Lucius. It wasn't hard to figure out. So, I did my research. Before Hogwarts was built, your family lived in France. An Italian noblewoman, by some name I haven't been able to find, married a French nobleman. They had heard of Salazar Slytherin, though I have no idea how, and traveled to England to meet him. They became fast friends for they all had something in common. They disliked Muggles and Muggle-borns. So, when the school was built, your ancestors sent their children there. Malfoys have been in Slytherin House ever since.

"As for your mother, well, her mother's family is descended from Greece. Hence the names, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda. Your mother's father didn't worry about what his wife named their children. He was just happy to have a Grecian pureblood bride. His family, the Black family, were also friends of Slytherin, of course. So, really, it explains a lot."

He nodded in agreement, impressed with how much she knew. Truth was, he didn't know how close his ancestors had been with Slytherin. He just knew all his family had been in Slytherin.

As the night progressed, they danced to various songs, chatted with different Muggles, and drank a lot of punch. Draco was astounded by the Muggles. He had always believed Muggles were like sheep. All the same, doing all the same things. But, he learned that they weren't. In fact, there was hardly any difference between the Muggles he met and many wizards he knew. Each Muggle had a different personality. They were... people.

"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped suddenly, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling him to the dance floor. "This is my favourite song! We _have_ to dance to it!"

He allowed her to lead him onto the dance floor. He pulled her close as they began to dance and asked her, "What is it called?"

She blushed slightly, "It's called 'Can't Help Falling in Love With You.' Silly, I know. But, it's my favourite song in the whole world. "

He smiled. "It's fine," he assured her.

All that mattered to him was being with her. To him, the song was perfect. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help himself. It no longer mattered that she was a Muggle-born or that he was a pureblood. She was beautiful. And she was dancing with him.

More than that, over the past couple weeks, he had gotten to know her better. Each moment he spent with her, he found himself falling deeper and deeper. He loved everything about her. She was smart, funny, pretty, and kind. She was everything he wanted to be and more. They had a lot in common, too. They were both only children who yearned for a sibling or two. They were both spoiled, snotty, stubborn, and self-conscience. There was so much he wanted to learn from her. So much he knew she could teach him. Had already taught him.

He gazed down into her sparkling brown eyes and was mesmerized. "Like honey," he whispered, huskily.

She tilted her head slightly and asked, "What's like honey?"

Not taking his eyes off hers, he answered, "Your eyes. They remind me of honey. Golden and sweet..." Keeping his eyes on her, he bent his head down. "As sweet as your lips," he whispered softly before kissing her.

Like before, everyone disappeared. He and Hermione were alone and he drank her like a sweet wine. She did not protest nor attempt to stop him. She graciously accepted his lips and invited him into her mouth to taste the delicious fruit there. He kept the kiss tender, savouring every bit as if it were a rare wine he could only sample once. Even though it was their second kiss, he felt as if it were their first.

Electricity sparked around them and he could see the fireworks go off in his mind. The entire world had stood still for them. Nothing else existed.

Draco knew, in that moment, there was no turning back. But he was all right with it. He had no desire to go anywhere. He was content to remain in this moment forever.

Like before, she had gently broken the kiss. He opened his eyes and gazed at her. A long moment passed before he rasped, "I am not apologizing. I meant to kiss you and I intend on doing so again."

Before she could protest, his lips captured hers for the second time that night. He held her close, cupping her face with one hand. She did not fight him.

He was hungry and needful. He wanted more of her. Every inch of her. And his kiss spoke of his want. He wanted to drink in every last drop of her honey until he was drunk with passion. Never had he wanted something or someone as badly as he wanted her.

She broke the kiss again, pulling away from him as much as she could. So, he kissed her cheek, her forehead, her ear. He trailed kisses to her neck until she whispered hoarsely, "Draco, please stop."

Her small plea brought him back to the present. He glanced at her curiously. "What's wrong, darling?" he questioned, confused.

Hermione blushed. "We are still at the party," she reminded him, glancing at the people who were staring at them in awe.

Draco looked around and was surprised. He had forgotten they were still at the party. Everyone had formed a sort of circle around them and was staring at them.

Martha pushed through the crowd until she was standing in front of them. Her smile almost split her face in half. She wheeled around to face the audience and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the hottest couple in town. Our very own, very beautiful Hermione Granger and her handsome, mysterious hunk of man flesh Draco Malfoy!"

As the crowd applauded and whooped, Draco and Hermione glanced nervously at one another. They were not a couple. Never had been. It had just been a kiss.. or two. As Draco pondered this recent development, Hermione tapped Martha on the shoulder. When the Muggle turned around and smiled, Hermione glared at her. "I don't recall giving you permission to make such an announcement, Martha," she snapped. "Draco and I are just friends. We don't need it going around that we could possibly be anything more."

_We don't need it going around that we could possibly be friends either_, Draco thought, but kept it to himself.

Martha's smile vanished as she tilted her head to the side. "And what you did just now was just a friendly peck on the cheek?" she asked, sarcastically. "Get off it, Hermione. The two of you were snogging as if it were the only thing left in the world to do. Everyone had stopped dancing just to watch you two. I was just trying to save my party."

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand. "We are leaving," she hissed at him as she practically dragged him out the house.

Neither said a word for the first couple of blocks. Finally, Hermione gave a frustrated scream that made Draco jump. "I can't believe her!" she shouted into the night. "Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?"

Draco, not understanding, gave a shrug. "She's a Muggle," he replied, thinking that alone explained everything. "What else can you expect?"

She glared at him. "I thought that by bringing you to that party, you would learn that Muggles are just like Wizards. It doesn't matter that she's a Muggle, Draco. She still should've known better. What she did was spiteful and horrible and rude and tactless and inconsiderate and..."

He pulled her into an embrace. He could feel her body shudder convulsively as sobs racked through her. He did not understand why she was so upset. Who cared what a bunch of Muggles knew? Or what they thought? They were just Muggles.

"It's going to be all right," he gently assured her, stroking her hair.

She broke away from him. "No, Draco. No, it's not going to be all right. Muggles weren't the only ones at that party. Dean Thomas was there, too."

He gave her a quizzical glance. The name sounded awfully familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "Who is..."

"Dean Thomas is from Gryffindor," she explained. "He's a Muggle-born like me. He shares a room with Harry and Ron."

Draco's face hardened. "What was he doing there?" he questioned, immediately suspicious.

She sighed, "I don't know. I didn't see him until Martha made her bloody announcement. He and I made eye contact. I think he was just as shocked as I was."

"Really?" he sneered, sarcasm dripping from his lips. "I wonder why? Let's think this through. Here's this nasty little, fat Muggle announcing that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are a couple. Hm.. I wonder what got his attention?"

"Don't insult my friend, Malfoy," she growled. "She doesn't know about our world. She doesn't know what we are nor our positions in Hogwarts. It's not her fault."

"Not her fault?" he repeated incredulously. "We didn't ask her to say anything. We were perfectly content to..."

"Snog in the middle of the dance floor," she finished for him. "Let's face it. Even if she hadn't said anything, everyone was watching us. It's not that difficult to notice two people snogging in the middle of a crowded room. Especially when everyone has parted away from us and taken to watch us instead of dancing."

"I all ready told you I'm not apologizing for that kiss," he growled. "Nor for the one after."

"I'm not asking for an apology, Draco," she replied, obviously frustrated. "It's just... Dean Thomas and Harry are friends. I can promise you that come September, Harry, Ron, and probably the rest of the school, will know about it. And probably think we are a couple."

"No, they won't." he told her as he turned and began making his way back to the party. He had a reputation to protect.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, following him at the brisk pace he set.

"Thomas and I are going to have a chat," he answered.

He could not risk word getting out that he, Draco Malfoy, had kiss a Mudblood. Though Draco's feelings towards Hermione were changing, he did not need the rest of the Wizarding Community finding out. Especially seeing as his father was in prison, his escaped aunt was staying at his house, and the Dark Lord... well, doing whatever it is he's doing. All of which could get both Draco and his mother into no end of trouble. He did not need to put Hermione through that.

He felt Hermione tugging on his arm, but he did not stop. "I'm not going to do anything to him," he promised her. "I just want to talk to him."

He knew she was worried, but he felt her hand relax slightly. She chose to follow him instead of argue, for which he was relieved. As they reentered the party, Draco wracked his brain to try to remember what Thomas looked like. He really needed to learn to pay more attention to those around him.

"There he is," Hermione said, pointing to a tall black boy.

He was black. How could Draco forget that detail? Approaching the boy, Draco straightened his throat and spoke up, "Thomas, we need to talk."

Thomas turned and looked at Draco. The boy's eyes narrowed dangerously. He glanced slightly to Draco's left and saw the girl Draco was with. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, forgetting Draco was there. "Have you gone mental?"

Hermione let go of Draco's arm. "It's not what you think," she tried to explain. "Martha was exaggerating and making assumptions. She knows nothing."

Thomas threw Draco a nasty look which the pureblood gladly returned. "I couldn't believe it when I saw it at first. I thought perhaps there were two people here who looked like you. Or perhaps I was imagining, because the Hermione Granger I know would be caught dead before snogging Draco Malfoy. But, when my cousin announced..."

"Martha's your cousin?" Hermione questioned.

"It doesn't matter," Draco interrupted. He stared at Thomas coldly. "You can't tell anyone what you saw tonight. Especially no one from school."

"Worried your Slytherin friends will call you 'traitor', Malfoy? Worried about your precious reputation as Muggle and Muggle-born hater?" Thomas sneered. "Personally, I think people would be shocked to hear that Draco Malfoy is dating none other than the Muggle-born, 'know-it-all' Hermione Granger."

"But we aren't dating," Hermione insisted. "Please, Dean, you have to promise not to tell. Not anyone. Not even Harry or Ron."

He raised an eyebrow. "If you aren't dating, then why are you at a party snogging on the dance floor?" he asked her.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Finally, she answered, "It's complicated. Just please, Dean. Promise me."

"Why don't you just put a memory charm on me? Then I'd never even know you were here," he suggested.

Draco sneered, "You know we can't do magic outside of school. We're underage."

"You never put much stock in the rules before, Malfoy," Thomas commented. "Why start now?"

"Why you disgusting little Mud--"

"Malfoy, stop it!" Hermione interrupted before he could finish the sentence. She placed a hand on his arm and he quieted. Draco threw a seething glare at Thomas.

"Think about what you're getting yourself into, Hermione," Thomas advised. "People like Malfoy don't change... I won't say anything to anyone. But, if you're serious about this, you need to tell Harry and Ron. Just promise me you'll think about it. You're a smart girl. Don't set yourself up to be hurt."

Draco and Hermione walked side by side out of the party and onto the street. They were silent for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Draco's mind whirled with Thomas' warning.

He knew his reputation. He knew he had hurt Hermione in the past. More times than he cared to admit, in fact. He also knew he wanted to do everything he could to redeem himself.

"Hermione, I'm sorry for what I almost said back there," he whispered. He was no longer seething in anger. The walk was effectively calming him down.

He glanced sideways at her and could tell she had been hurt. She had been hurt, again, by him. He had almost called Thomas a Mudblood. The idea that he still used that word hurt her. And he knew it. He would have to work hard to ensure he refrained from using it again.

"It's okay," she finally said, shrugging slightly. "I know it's a big adjustment for you. You grew up in a very conservative setting. It's understandable."

He admired her courage, her understanding. He didn't know where it had come from. Perhaps it was something you learned growing up so... different from everyone else?

They approached the house and he stepped in front of her, stopping her from walking up the stone walkway. Bringing her close, he placed a tender kiss on her lips. This time, he was careful to keep himself from going further.

"The truth is, I'm scared," he admitted quietly. "I've never felt this way about anyone and I'm not entirely sure how to handle it." He could not deny his feelings any longer. "A part of me wants to shout out to the world. I'm in lo... in lo... I'm in love with you."

He saw her lip quiver as she let out a small gasp. He placed another gentle kiss on her lips before turning away from her. He stared hard at the stone walkway. "Another part of me wants to be ashamed," he told her. "I am a pureblood from a long line of purebloods. My family is one of the oldest wizarding families. You. You're a Mud-- Muggle-born. We're complete opposites. Your best friend sent my father to Azkaban. I should hate you. I'm supposed to hate you. It's how I've been brought up. It's what I've always known. But, I can't."

He turned to look at her. Tears had welled in her eyes and he understood why. "I tried so hard to ignore it. To deny my feelings. I can't risk it. There's too much at stake. It the Dark Lord finds out, I will lose everything, including my life. But, worse still, I will lose you."

He did not know what she was thinking. She stood there, staring at him. Tears now poured freely from her eyes. He pulled her close in a tight embrace. "I wish things were different," he whispered, holding her tightly.

Before he could say more, she pulled slightly away from him and kissed him. Her kiss was timid, shy, and unsure. He allowed her to lead, to explore the wonders of their kiss. She drew back, ending the kiss, and gazed up into his eyes with her honey coloured eyes. "We should make the most of our time together, Romeo," she whispered, a soft smile playing sweetly on her lips.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. "Romeo?"

She giggled. "A Shakespearean play. _Romeo and Juliet_. Two star-crossed lovers separated by conflicting houses. Both wanting nothing more than to be together, but terrified of the consequences of their actions. So, they sneak off at night and spent every moment in each other's arms."

He returned her smile. "I like this story. What ends up happening to them?" he questioned.

Her smile faded into a tragic smile. "They die in a lover's embrace."

* * *

Author's Note: There are several songs and such in here that are mentioned that I cannot take credit for. There's "As the World Falls Down" sung by David Bowie and "Can't Help Falling in Love With You" sung by Elvis Presley. Also, _Romeo and Juliet_ by William Shakespeare.


	7. Chapter Six

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Six

Hermione slowly blinked her eyes open. She knew she was facing the bulk of the room for the sun was shining in her eyes. A soft smile played momentarily on her lips. Last night had been wonderful, dreamlike. The music, the dancing, the laughter played over and over in her mind. The kiss. Or, rather two kisses. Those had been the climax of the evening.

Her smile faded when she realized an arm was draped over her waist. It wasn't her arm, but she knew the arm. She had felt that arm around her waist constantly last night. Felt it as it guided her across the dance floor and held her close.

Careful not to wake him, she gently turned in the bed, until she came face to face with the owner of that arm. He looked so peaceful lying there next to her. In fact, it was the first time she had ever seen him look peaceful. Even when he was incapacitated, he had been troubled; his face contorted in agony or misery, sometimes a mixture of both.

Now, he looked completely serene. Almost angelic, the way his white blonde hair fell over his pale face. He was happy, content. He seemed as if nothing in the entire world could plague him at the moment.

Ever so carefully, she lifted his arm and placed it across his side. Though she liked the way he held her, she wasn't sure she was ready for such closeness. She was still shocked she had agreed to stay at all.

Hermione had never been with a boy before. Never felt love's first passion. She had never been ready. Had never met anyone she was comfortable with.

_"Stay with me," he whispered into her ear outside his bedroom door._

_She looked up at him and shivered. She wasn't afraid. She just wasn't ready. "Draco, I've never..."_

_He placed a single finger over her lips. "I wouldn't ask it of you," he assured her. "I've never either. I just want to be with you, to hold you. I promise I will not do anything you don't want to do. I'm just tired of being alone."_

_At first, she was skeptical, thinking it might be some kind of trick. Then, she looked into his misty gray eyes. He loved her. Genuinely, truly loved her. She knew his words spoke true. She could see it in his eyes as easily as she could see the love he held for her. And she knew that when she was ready, he would be gentle and patient. He didn't want to hurt her._

She gently brushed a stray white lock of hair from his forehead. It was odd sleeping with another person, especially a boy. She had been nervous, but it turned out to be not as bad as she thought. He didn't snore nor did he attempt to kick her. He shared the covers, rather than steal them. He just slept there, content to have his arm around her.

He opened his eyes at her feather touch and she smiled at him. "Good morning," she breathed, gently.

He returned her smile and kissed her on the forehead. He rolled onto his back and, taking her hand into his, rested both of their hands on his chest.

As she started to scoot closer to him, he stopped her. "Wait," he whispered huskily. He repositioned himself slightly. "Okay, now you can move."

Confused, she tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. His blush almost made her laugh. "It's a guy thing," he answered her silent question. "It tends to happen a lot, especially in the mornings. Though, with you, I've been having to deal with it a _lot_ more."

She knew she was blushing, most likely as bad as he was. She had read about men experiencing those things, and she was immediately reminded that while he was still young, he was still male. And males were men. "Do.. does it hurt?" she asked, innocently.

The look on his face _did_ make her laugh. All the colour, or what colour there was, had drained until he was almost a pale white. She shook her head as she tried to stifle her laughter. "I'm sorry. I had read about what you're going through. Made me curious to know if it really did hurt, like it says in the books. I've never been able to ask a guy before."

He just stared at her. "You are a strange person, Hermione Granger," he told her. "Beautiful and interesting, but strange."

Sighing, he sat up in bed and began rubbing his eyes. The sheets fell from his upper half revealing his bare chest. Hermione had to stop herself from sighing as well. A month ago, if someone would have told her she'd be swooning over Draco Malfoy's bod, she'd call them crazy. Now, she couldn't get enough of it. His pale skin was smooth and taunt over well muscled arms and chest. Though he did not have a six-pack, yet, a smooth line dipped itself into his navel.

Suddenly realizing what time it was, she jumped up. She threw her legs over the side of the bed. "I should probably go to my room," she said. "If my mum and dad catch me in here..."

"They already know," he replied. "Your mum came in here last night while you slept to check on us. Said she didn't see you in your room so assumed you were here."

She stared at him in horrid shock. "What?!" she hissed. "What did she say? Why didn't you wake me?"

He shrugged. "She didn't say anything. She asked what happened and I told her the truth. Then, she left. I didn't wake you because I didn't see the point."

She jumped out of the bed and threw a pillow at him. "You should have woken me up!" she reprimanded. "Do you know how much trouble we are in? Sex or not, we shouldn't have been sharing the same bed. Merlin's beard! My dad's going to be so angry. He'll probably want me checked for pregnancy and then put on birth control."

"Nothing happened," he said, looking a bit agitated. "If they want, they can check. You're still in tact. I don't see what the big fuss is anyway."

"You don't see..." she couldn't finish the sentence. She gave a frustrated growl. He was a Malfoy, through and through. He didn't see what the fuss was?! Oh, of course he didn't! He was a Malfoy! She stormed out of the room.

"Hermione!" her mother called from downstairs.

Oh, no. They were up.

Preparing herself, she began to walk down the stairs. She felt someone behind her and knew it was Draco. She threw him a quizzical glance. "I'm not letting you do this alone," he whispered in her ear.

She was surprised by his uncharacteristic bravery. Grateful, as well. He hated punishment probably more than she did. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, he took her hand into his. Together, they walked into the dining room. Hermione's parents sat next to each other facing the teenagers. Across from them were two empty seats.

As the teenagers took their seats, Hermione's father folded his newspaper and placed it on the table. He stared hard at them, his gaze traveling back and forth from Draco to Hermione. Finally, he settled on Hermione. His disapproving glare was enough to make her eyes water. However, it was his words that truly hurt her. "I am so ashamed of you right now. I've always prided myself on how smart you were. You've always been capable of making the right decisions. And yet, here we sit. I cannot believe you would do something so... so..."

"We don't know what they've done yet, dear," her mother interrupted. She didn't look happy, but she was giving her daughter the benefit of the doubt. She sighed, "Would you mind explaining to us what could possibly possess you to sleep in Draco's bed?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but it was Draco who answered, "It's my fault. I asked her to stay."

"Nothing happened," Hermione quickly added. "We just slept. We came home from the party and were exhausted."

"Am I to believe you were so exhausted that you couldn't finish the walk to your room?" her father inquired. "Especially seeing that your room is right next door to his."

"You're right," Hermione admitted, looking down at her hands. "There's no plausible explanation for us to have slept in the same room, much less the same bed. It was a complete lack of judgment on both our parts."

She did not look at him, but she knew Draco was shaking his head. "You can't blame her. I wanted her to stay. I asked it of her. Yes, I shouldn't have, but I wanted her there."

"And nothing happened?" her mother questioned. "The two of you just _slept_ through the night?"

Both teenagers nodded. "It was wrong of me to ask her to stay, and I admit that," he told her. "I won't apologize for it, however. I wanted her there and I asked her. It was a bad judgment call, but I don't feel sorry for it. Being with her brought a joy to me that I have never felt. When I woke up this morning, I woke up to seeing her next to me. It was right. It felt right. And I won't apologize for something that feels right. I'm in love with her."

A stunned silence fell over the room as all three Grangers stared at him. Though he had told this to Hermione last night, to hear him announce it to her parents... She could feel the tears threatening to pour from her eyes.

Hermione's father straightened his throat. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, have you spoken to my daughter about these feelings?"

Draco nodded. "I have. I told her last night," he confirmed.

"Hermione?" her mother inquired. "Do you feel the same, dear?"

Hermione looked from her parents to Draco. It was confusing to see him there, to hear those words come from his mouth. He was Draco Malfoy. For five years he had treated her as if she were a disease. Now, he was professing his undying love to her. She wanted to deny it. Harry and Ron would never understand. Draco was the enemy. Or, at least, that's what they would say. His father was a Death Eater and Draco was walking down the same path.

Regardless of all of these facts, she couldn't deny herself. Unwittingly over the past month, she had fallen for him. She wasn't a fool, or maybe she was? If she were a fool, she was a fool in love. And so, she confessed, "I do. Very much so. I don't know how or why it happened. But, yes. I am in love with Draco Malfoy."

She had said those words while looking directly in his steel gray eyes. All the love she felt for him in that moment was mirrored in his eyes. She couldn't help but smile at him. It felt odd, confessing such a thing as love. It felt incredible; like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she sprouted wings. She wanted to kiss him, to show him her love. It was a feeling she had never had before.

As if he could hear her unasked request, Draco pulled her close and kissed her passionately. For a moment, she forgot her parents were in the room. Only Draco and she were there. And he loved her. And she loved him. It was a union that.. well, probably damned them both, but neither cared.

The sound of her father straightening his throat broke the kiss. The teenagers blushed sheepishly as they looked at the adults. The older man sighed, "I guess this means we need to inform the Malfoys..."

Alarmed, both teenagers shouted at once, "No!"

Draco quickly explained, "They don't need to know. Not right now. My father is still in Azkaban. Neither of my parents will approve of this development. I'd rather wait and tell them myself... later. After I've regained my magic... Much, much later."

Hermione couldn't agree more. "There's so many things the two of us need to do. We can't risk it leaking out that we are a couple," she added to Draco's statement.

Draco nodded and added more. "Once we've done what we have to do, then we'll make the announcement. Until then, this has to remain between us."

"Am I to assume there are those who would object to this union?" her mother asked.

"Not only would they object, Mother," Hermione answered, "they would try to stop it from occurring. Draco is from one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain. They are very strict, as well."

"You're not getting yourselves into trouble, are you?" her father questioned.

"Of course we are," Draco replied with a typical Malfoy smirk. "But we'll be okay. We'll plan out everything. If we stick to our plan, nothing bad should occur."

"Is marriage in your plan?" Hermione's mother asked.

Hermione blushed. "We just discovered we had feelings for one another. We're only sixteen. I'm sure it'll be some time before marriage becomes a subject for us to explore."

"Which brings us back to you sleeping together," her father pointed out. "I'm not sure it's a wise idea."

Her mother agreed, "Even if you do not intend on doing anything, the temptation is still there. Especially late at night when you're tired and judgment is a bit wane."

"That's not saying we don't trust you're judgment, Hermione," her father assured her. "Though you've put it to question last night, we do trust you. We just don't want to see our daughter end up being an unwed mother."

"It's not an easy world out there," the older woman explained. "If you think people will shun you because he's pureblood and you're Muggle-born, imagine what will happen if you end up illegitimately pregnant with his child."

Draco nodded. "We understand. I can assure you she won't become pregnant. Even if we... become more intimate, we will take the necessary precautions."

"But we don't intend on becoming more intimate at this juncture," Hermione expressed. "There's just too much at stake. Regardless of whether I were to become pregnant, we cannot let anyone find out about us. Not right now."

"As long as you know the risks and know what precautions to take, I'll be okay," her mother told them. "I'll worry. It's a parent's right to worry. But, I trust my daughter to make the right decisions."

"I want an assurance from you, Malfoy," her father said. "If my daughter does become pregnant, you are to take full responsibility. I don't care what your parents or anyone else says. You will be a father to that child and a husband to it's mother."

To Hermione's amazement, Draco nodded his head in agreement. "I understand. Nothing would make me happier, Mr. Granger."


	8. Chapter Seven

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Seven

Later that day found Draco resting in the armchair in the living room. His unread Advanced Potions book lay open, abandoned on his lap. Too many things were running through his mind to worry about such things as school work. School work he couldn't even do to begin with.

His mind kept going over the conversation he had had that morning with the Grangers. A part of him was exhilarated. For the first time in his life, Draco was in love. And that love was returned. He knew it to be a perfect match, as well.

He and Hermione had so much in common. Things he never would've realized before. They were both smart and enjoyed many of the same literature. They loved magic, too. Always, they studied new spells and ideas with zest and enthusiasm. They were both stubborn. Their arguments were as fierce as their make-up sessions. They were spoiled, and a bit selfish.

Draco noticed, as well, how much Hermione loved her family. A love, he could see, that was returned. Both of her parents were very well off, for Muggles. They worked diligently and were given respect by many of their peers. He also learned that Hermione's family was old. Their bloodline could be easily traced back to the Middle Ages. Though they lived in this small town in a medium-sized house, they had enough money to take trips, give Hermione anything she wanted, and afford only the best of stuff.

They were also strict. They loved their daughter and expected only the best out of her. They refused to accept less. He realized that this was why Hermione always worked hard and tirelessly in school: her parents expected nothing but the topmost grades.

If ever there were a more perfect union, it would have been between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Draco could easily imagine taking a few hundred years back. Hermione would be a debutante and Draco would be the suitor, going to her father to claim his prize. And her father would accept without argue.

Or perhaps a few hundred years back Draco and Hermione would've been betrothed at birth? They would grow up sneering at each other. And then, when they would become of age, they would learn just how right their parents were.

These musings ended as Draco thought of his own family. This was the other part of his mind. The part that screamed at him as if he were an idiot. It was quite possible he had lost his mind.

His family would never approve of her. She was a Mudblood. A member of a race of people who wanted nothing more than to sap away the magical resources of the world. They were filthy. Dirty blood. Tainted.

These thoughts disheartened him. He knew his family. Knew how they were. Knew how much they would hate her. And it destroyed him inside every time he thought about it.

The Malfoy family was a proud family. Like the Gangers, they had been around since the Middle Ages. Their blood ran deep and old. They were strict and extremely conservative to the old ways.

_"That's how you keep things pure,"_ his mother would say. Keep things pure...

As old as the Malfoys were, Draco wasn't stupid. He knew the purebloods were dying out. Too many years, too much bloodshed, too many childless purebloods. If the purebloods didn't converge eventually, there would be none left. They had to "taint" the blood just a bit just to keep it whole.

Draco sighed. It was a never ending battle. The only thing he was certain of anymore was his love for the brown haired girl sitting across from him. Try as he might, he couldn't help himself. He knew they would last and he was not going to lose her.

He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was a quarter passed nine. He turned his attention to the girl lounging on the couch. Her nose was buried in her Ancient Runes book. If he didn't stop her, she's stay there all night.

"Hermione?" he called to her, catching her eyes. "I think it's about time for bed. Or, at the very least, we should stop studying. We've been at it for three hours."

She closed her book and nodded in agreement. "We need to talk anyway," she told him.

The seriousness of her words caused him to raise an eyebrow. Somehow, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like what she had to say. "Oh?" he inquired, thinking it best to humour her.

She said nothing as they made their way upstairs and into his bedroom. Once he shut the door, she blurted, "Ron sent me an owl telling me that needed me in the Order. His dad's coming to pick me up in the morning."

He stared at her, shocked. "You're leaving me here?" he asked. "School doesn't start for another month! What could they possibly want with you? Do they know I'm here?"

She shook her head. "Unless Dumbledore told them, no, they don't. I haven't said a word to anyone."

"So, why do they want you?" he questioned, frowning.

She sighed, "The Order is trying to prepare Harry for his final battle with Voldemort. We all know it's only a matter of time. Though, what the actual plan is, I'm unsure. Course, as much as I love you, it'd probably be best if I didn't say even if I _did_ know."

"I really wish you wouldn't say that name," he growled. "I don't want you to go."

"It's my decision to make!" she shouted, stubbornly. "Harry needs me."

Wrong thing to say. Apparently, she knew it was the wrong thing to say as well. Her eyes widened as she clapped a hand to her mouth. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Harry needs you? Harry needs you," he repeated, scathingly. "Well, of _course_ if Harry needs you! Never mind me. I'm just your bloody boyfriend. Not that it matters. I can't do magic. but _Potter_ can do loads of bloody magic. So, I'll stay here in bloody Muggle Britain while you go off with Potter. Why? Because _he NEEDS_ you!"

Hermione gave a frustrated snarl, "I don't need your jealousy, Draco, and I don't want to fight. There's more to it than just Harry. Voldemort is out there. And he's ready. We are in the middle of a war. I'm sorry you can't do magic, but what can I do about it? If I don't fight, this world will be painted with the blood of innocent people."

As she spoke, her voice became calmer as tears sprinkled her eyes. Draco's expression softened and he sighed, "Hermione, you could lose your life. I don't want to lose you. You mean so much to me."

He pulled her into an embrace and continued, "The Dark Lord is strong. Each day he grows stronger, more powerful. At this point, I don't know if this is a wise decision. Fighting him is practically damning yourself to death."

"Draco, look at me," she whispered. He did so, gazing into her watery honey eyes. She raised a gentle hand to touch his jaw. "If I don't fight him, I am damning myself. Do you really think he'll let me, a Mudblood, live? Especially someone as close to Harry as I am?"

He knew she was right. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew she had to fight this fight. The Dark Lord gave her no other choice. But, it broke his heart. Draco was worried about losing her. He didn't want to watch her die. It was a fear he carried deep in his soul and he couldn't break it free.

He bent down slightly and kissed her tenderly. Though time stood still, as always, there was a sadness in their kiss that could not be spoken. A deep longing that they knew they were both too young to fulfill.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," he breathed softly upon her lips.

She looked up at him and smiled into his steel eyes. "I love you, too, Draco Malfoy," she responded sweetly.

They kissed again and a strange feeling came over him. As he closed his eyes, he could feel something different happening to him. A warmth began to spread through his body. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and held her close. Then, not realizing what he was doing, he began to speak in Latin:

_"Pectus pectoris quod animus , EGO dico super thee _

_Planto nos unus intemporaliter _

_Redimio nos una ut nunquam pro _

_Duos animus fio unus_

_Duos pectus pectoris fio universus"_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, or perhaps it was his heart, he heard Hermione whispering the same words along with him. Though he spoke Latin fluently, he could hardly understand what he was saying at the moment. However, it felt like an enchantment. Even more, as they spoke the words together, the warmth became stronger and more powerful. Soon, they were engulfed in the warmth. Together, they opened their eyes and stared at one another.

She was beautiful. Her body was covered in an angelic light and her eyes shone golden. Her full lips parted ever so slightly in awe. Taking the invitation, he kissed her. He could feel a wind twirl around them, wrapping them into their embrace.

Then, it was over. The wind died, the warmth faded. Opening his eyes, Draco saw the light had vanished. He looked at Hermione curiously. "What was that about?"

She looked almost frightened. "I'm not sure," she whispered breathlessly. "I think we unknowingly performed some old magic, though."

He stopped her. "I can't perform magic, remember?" he told her.

They stared at one another for a full second before Draco dashed into his school trunk. He pulled out his wand. "_Lumos!_" he cried. His wind lit up and he nearly dropped it.

"My magic," he said, dumbstruck, "is back... My magic is back!"

Letting out a whoop of happiness, he jumped up and clicked his heels. He then grabbed Hermione and twirled her in the air, laughing. When he lowered her back to the ground, he kissed her roughly on the lips before dancing around the room.

Never had he felt so happy. Here he was with the girl of his dreams. He had his magic back. He could go home. He had...

Home. That word made him even more happy as he stopped in his tracks. He missed his parents so much. Was his father out of Azkaban yet? Was his mother okay? All the questions that had been plaguing him the past month were finally going to be answered. He can go home.

He gave Hermione a broad smile, then frowned. Why did her smile look so sad? Shouldn't she be happy for him? He could take care of her now. He had his magic back.

"So, this is it," she stated more than asked. Her eyes were watery when she questioned, "Are you going home?"

Realization struck him like a dagger in his gut. Memories of the past month flooded him. But, he also knew he had to get back home. He nodded slowly. "I have to. They need me."

She didn't argue with him. "Are you leaving tonight?"

He touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand. "I can wait until the morning," he offered. "Tonight, it'll just be you and me."

She nodded softly. "I'll go change into some nightclothes," she told him.

He smiled and nodded. She was going to sleep with him one last time.

(II)

(II)

For the first time in her life, Hermione did not want to get up. She loathed the sun for coming up so early. It couldn't possibly be time, yet. Just a few more minutes. A few more hours in his arms. Was that so difficult to ask?

They had spent most of the night making out on his bed. At one point, she thought he was going to want to go all the way, but thankfully, he was gentlemanly enough to hold out. She wasn't ready for that yet. So, they just kissed... and touched.

After all, they didn't have to actually do anything. They could explore. Learn about one another's body. And she learned a lot last night.

She knew he was right for her. The moment he had declared his love for her before her parents, her heart was no longer hers. It belonged to him, fully and completely.

She opened her eyes and gazed at the sunlight on the azure carpet. It was a match made in heaven. If there had been any doubt in her mind, last night ended it.

She was still puzzled over the unknown spell they had cast. She could recall the feeling of warmth and the ethereal glow that had covered their bodies. He had looked like an angel. His gray eyes were silver in the heavenly light.

Never had Hermione been more happy than in that moment. They were one and it had been incredible. But, then, it had ended. And he had gotten his magic back.

Hermione was happy for him. She knew how much magic meant to him. That he couldn't do it, killed him, and hurt her deeply. So, for him to have his magic back was great. But, it saddened her. At first, she feared he would forget all the wonderful times they had shared together. After all, he was a Malfoy. Pureblood.

But, he didn't. He remembered. And he still loved her. Last night had been proof enough.

She turned in her spot so she could look at his sleeping form. She loved watching him sleep. He was so peaceful, so beautiful. And so... impish?

She furrowed her eyebrows at the smirk that was slowly spreading across his face. "Good morning, darling," he said, startling her.

She laughed, "Good morning."

His gray eyes opened and his smirk softened into a genuine smile. Slowly, his face became serious. "We need to talk," he told her.

"Now?" she questioned in confusion. They had just woken up and there was still time before either had to leave.

He nodded, sitting up. "I'll be leaving shortly. But, before I go, I want to make you understand something."

She didn't like the seriousness his voice had taken. She sat up as well, not understanding. "I'm listening."

He took a deep breath and began, "I love you, Hermione. I love you so much. I want you to remember how much I love you. Implant it into your mind and do not forget... We agreed that our love will remain a secret for now. I need to know that you understand the implications of that promise."

"Of course I do," she assured him. Where was he going with this? "I have my own reasons for not saying anything, remember?"

He sighed, "Yes, well, when we are at school, we have to play the part. We don't want to draw suspicion. We both have very important parts to play. You are Harry Potter's friend. I am the son of a Death Eater. We have to play those parts to the utmost.

"Last night, I remembered some of what happened to me. I know generally how I ended up crashing into your coffee table... No, don't interrupt. I'll tell you the story someday, but not right now.

"We both have secrets that we cannot share with one another. A lot is going on both on your end and on mine. The Dark Lord is very powerful. As is Potter, I'm sure. I don't know what's going to happen this year at Hogwarts, but I have a feeling it's going to be big... I don't want you to worry about me. I'll be all right.

"There are going to be times when I'll... say things. There's no doubt I'll probably end up calling you a Mudblood at some point. It's part of my act. Just remember, I don't mean it. I'm playing my part. I love you."

She nodded her understanding. "I'll forgive you," she promised him.

He hugged her and smiled at her. "Your birthday is September nineteenth. That night, after everyone has gone to bed, meet me in the Room of Hidden Things. I'll have something for you."

It took her a moment to realize he meant the Room of Requirement. She raised an eyebrow and smiled coyly. "What will you have?" she questioned teasingly.

"What?" he gasped dramatically. "Tell you and ruin the surprise? Why, Miss Granger! What good is a birthday if I can't surprise you?"

She giggled and glanced down at his lap. "I think you need a cold shower, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

**Author's Note: **The Latin translates into:

Heart and soul, I call upon thee

Make us one eternally

Bind us together as never before

Two souls become one

Two hearts become whole


	9. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note:** This chapter starts with the sixth book. Again, if you have not read this book, please do so before continuing. There will be some inconsistancies between this story and the book, however for the most part, this story follows along with the books.

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_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Eight

It had been almost two months since the last time she had been with him. Two months since she had been able to hold him, talk to him. She wanted answers.

So much had happened in the past two months. Her mind raced through these things. What was he doing in Borgin & Burkes? What did he need repaired? What was he doing in Pansy Parkinson's lap?

That bothered her the most. Though she loathed to admit it, the thought nearly tore her apart. She felt used. How could he move on to another girl so easily? Especially when she'd tried so hard to remain faithful to him? And, of all people, Pansy Parkinson!

Never mind the fact that he had almost caused Harry to miss school. If Tonks hadn't checked the train...

She approached the Room of Requirement nervously. He hadn't given her any indication that he had remembered his promise. She paced in front of the wall that hid the room. What if she was wrong? What if the room had relocated itself?

It was late. He was late. She still had homework to do. But, today was her birthday and he promised he'd be here. He couldn't forget his promise, could he?

A hand suddenly covered her mouth, startling her. "Shh," he whispered softly in her ear. "It's me."

Relieved, she turned on the spot and threw her arms around his neck. He hadn't forgotten! "I've missed you so much!" she breathed, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

With great reluctance, he pulled away. "Quickly," he told her, opening the door to the hidden room. "We don't want to be discovered."

_When had the door appeared? _she mused as she stepped inside.

She gasped when she saw the decor. The room was beautiful, to say the least. A table set for two was lit by soft candlelight and had a deep red velvet tablecloth covering it. Two large banners draped lazily on either side of the table, one Gryffindor, the other Slytherin.

Joining the candlelight came the soft glow of a brick and cherry wood fireplace. A dimly lit chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of a large wooden floor. Across the wooden floor was a four-poster king-sized bed.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," he announced.

Forgetting the thought of being angry with him, she squealed in delight as she hugged him. "Oh, Draco, it's beautiful!" she sighed, exuberantly.

He smiled. "I thought you would like it. Now, I know you ate a pretty big meal at dinner, so I thought a slice of cake should be enough," he reasoned, leading her by the hand to the table.

Sure enough, the table was set with elegant silver and china. Two large slices of yellow cake with chocolate icing sat in the middle of the two dishes. He lead her to the chair in front of the Gryffindor banner and pulled the chair out for her. She graciously accepted, blushing as he gently pushed her in.

He even had a small wine bucket at the table. But, instead of wine, "Would you care for some butterbeer, darling?"

She giggled as she nodded. This had to be the most romantic dessert she had ever had the pleasure of enjoying! She watched as he opened the bottle and poured some butterbeer, first in her wine glass, and then in his own. Once the bottle was back in the bucket, he lifted his wand and pointed it to a baby grand piano she hadn't noticed before.

To her delight, it started playing her favourite song, "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You." Draco took a sip of butterbeer before standing up. He held out his hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

Smiling coyly, she took a sip of her own drink before setting it down and accepting his hand. "Of course, you may," she answered, laughing as he swung her around onto the dance floor.

"Tonight, it's all about you, darling," he cooed. "The entire world has been put on pause to glorify in your beauty. All the men wish a chance to dance with you. All the girls envious of your never-ending beauty."

_All the girls..._ That jogged her memory. She glanced up into his silver eyes. All the love he had for her shone in those eyes. She dreaded the idea of bringing up her questions when he had obviously gone through so much trouble. If she kept her mouth shut, this could become the happiest night of her life.

_All the girls..._ "Including Pansy Parkinson?" she asked, her voice filled with more jealousy than she had intended.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Pansy Parkinson?" he questioned, not understanding.

She sighed. She knew there was no turning back. But, she had to know. "Harry told me about the incident on the train. He told me how cozy you were getting with her. He also seems to think Voldemort gave you some sort of mission, though he didn't know what. Is it true? Is Voldemort the reason you were in Borgin & Burkes?"

He stopped dancing. "How did you know I was in Borgin & Burkes?" he inquired, suspiciously.

"I-" she stammered, "that is to say, we followed you. We didn't know what you were up to and got suspicious."

He placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. "There's nothing for you to worry about," he assured her.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she blurted, suddenly. "Have you been branded with the Dark Mark?"

He looked surprised and hurt. He stepped back and pulled off his hunter green cloak. He then pushed up his sleeves and showed her both of his bare arms. "Do you see a Mark?" he inquired. "I'm only sixteen, Hermione. The Dark Lord isn't going to put an untried, underage teenager in his ranks. He hasn't gone completely mental."

Letting his sleeves fall back into place, he continued, "As for my being in Borgin & Burkes, I had to take care of something."

"You're being evasive," she pointed out, her hands falling to her hips.

"Yes, I am," he confirmed, his eyes hardening into anger. "Your friend put my father in prison, Hermione. Or have you forgotten that 'small' detail?"

"Your father put himself there," she argued. "Harry did not make your dad a Death Eater. He chose the path he walked. Now he's suffering for the choices that _he_ made."

"You act like things are really that simple," he sneered. "The world isn't painted in black and white. Potter didn't have to say anything. My father's never killed anyone. He's never even seriously harmed anyone. Potter did that..."

"Because it was the right thing to do," she interrupted. "Besides, people already knew about your father, Draco. He would've ended up behind bars sooner or later with or without Harry saying anything."

"Yes, well, had it been later, we wouldn't have the problems we have now," he said. Sighing, he spoke a bit calmer, "The Dark Lord has assigned me with a special task. I can't tell you what the task is, but if I fail, I risk... I'll lose them both."

Hermione gasped. Voldemort was threatening the lives of Draco's parents. "But, I thought your father was one of his most faithful servants?"

"That doesn't mean he'll hesitate to carry out his threat," he told her. "My father has greatly disappointed him. Now it's up to me to save the family. Please, don't tell Potter. Or Weasley. I've told you far more than I should have. I know they are your friends, but I don't need the three of you getting involved. This is for me to do. My task."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Then, she admitted, "I'm already involved. We are working towards defeating Voldemort. I can't go into detail, but I'm confident will find a way to destroy him once and for all."

He brought her close again as the song continued to play. "It seems we both have secrets we cannot reveal to one another. Moreso than before. I fear those secrets will become even more numbered as time passes," he observed. "Right now, it doesn't really matter. Someday, when all of this is past, we'll share those secrets. We'll confide in one another as we now confide with our most trusted friends."

She loved the way he felt against her. The way their bodies swayed in rhythm to the music. "You never answered my other question," she noted, dully.

Still swaying, he gazed down at her. "What question was that?" he questioned.

"About Pansy Parkinson. Harry said you were lying in her lap," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "It's true. I was," he confessed. "But, it wasn't as, I'm sure, Potter dramatized. At your parents' house, I told you I would have to play a role. One which would secure the thoughts of those around me. No one knows of you and I. I intend to keep it that way at the moment."

"So, what's going on between the two of you?" she inquired, her heart skipping a beat.

"Absolutely nothing," he told her. "And nothing ever will. Pansy is an annoying fat cow and I hate her. Besides, my heart belongs to only one girl and that girl is you."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank, God."

Draco laughed and embraced her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous. But, Gryffindors don't get jealous over such trivial things."

"They do if they think their boyfriend has run off with a greasy little trollop," she snarled, not realizing the amount of venom in her words.

"Hermione Granger!" Draco laughed.

"Well, it's true," she stated with a huff. "I never liked Parkinson. She's foul and completely..."

"I was much like her, if I remember correctly," he interrupted, giving her a customary smirk. "Of course, I'm not so bad anymore, am I?"

"You changed," she told him.

He shook his head. "No, I'm still the same 'foul, loathsome evil cockroach' I've always been. The only thing that's really changed is my opinion and behaviour towards you. Other than that, I'm pretty much the same."

"You don't hate Muggles," she pointed out.

He gave her a half smile. "Some Muggles. Your parents aren't so bad, but I remember Martha Jones. She was a pathetic piece of work."

"Martha was just glad to see me happy," Hermione defended her Muggle friend.

He shrugged. "I suppose. But, that doesn't make what she did less annoying."

She conceded his point. The song ended and they returned to the table. They ate the cake in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, they would smile to one another. Hermione was sipping her second glass of butterbeer when Draco snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot your birthday present!"

Curious, Hermione placed her glass on the table. "But, Draco, haven't you given me enough all ready? A candlelit dessert, a romantic dance to my favourite song..."

"Our song," he corrected. "If you don't mind, I would like to make that song ours."

She blushed, but agreed. "What more could you possibly give me?"

"This," he said, holding a ring between his pointer finger and thumb.

Hermione gasped. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. It was old, too. It had five stones in a marquis style, crown shaped and held together by a gold band. The middle gem, which was also the largest, was a beautiful ruby. On either side of the ruby, sat two slightly smaller emeralds. Next to them were two diamonds which were smaller than the emeralds. The ring sparkled and glittered in the candlelight.

As if showing her the ring wasn't enough, Draco got up from his seat and knelt down in front of her. "This," he whispered, "is a Malfoy family heirloom. It has been passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy all the way back to the first Malfoy who had made it. This ring symbolizes the one thing a Malfoy treasures the most: his true love.

"I can't promise that things will go well for us. We are in the middle of a war. You and I are from two separate worlds. But, I can't imagine a future without you. I love you so much. With this ring, I am asking you, Hermione Granger, will you consent to by my wife?"

Tears formed in her eyes and fell freely down her cheeks. She had never been so happy in her entire life. She knew the world had been halted, waiting anxiously in paused breath for her answer just as Draco did. Logic and reason were abandoned as she couldn't think of anything else to say accept, "Yes. Nothing would make me happier, Draco Malfoy."

A large smile spread across his face as he gently slipped the ring on her finger. They embraced and he kissed her passionately. "You don't know how happy you've just made me," he told her.

"Mrs. Hermione Malfoy," she tried the name.

At first the words sounded odd on her lips, but then she liked it. It felt nice. Perfect. "You know, I'll be the first Muggle-born to enter the family?"

He nodded, then frowned. "No, there was one other," he corrected. "Or rather, I think there was a long time ago, though I could be mistaken."

"There have been one or two Half-Bloods," she recalled from her research. "But, no Muggle-borns."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," he commented with a shrug. "Now, I have to tell you of this ring. It does have magical properties. Since you are it's new owner, it will only recognize you, and will only work for you. There's a special Shield Charm on it which will protect you from most life-threatening circumstances. I say 'most' because it will not protect you from the Killing Curse.

"Also, this ring has an imprint of you within it. No one can take it away from you save myself or our first born son. It belongs to you. It's yours. Not even my parents can take it from you. You can also take it off and wear it on a chain around your neck or carry it in your pocket. The affects will work the same as long as it's on your person. If I take it from you, the spell will be broken, the ring will shatter, and the Malfoy line will end with me."

She looked at him curiously. "Why will it end with you?" she inquired.

"Like I said," he explained, "the ring has you imprinted into it. It won't accept another wearer until our oldest son selects a bride. If I decide I don't want to marry you, or if you decide you no longer wish to marry me, then I will never marry. I have to marry in order for my name to be passed to a child."

"Yes, but illegitimate children are born everyday. And they can take either parent's name," she argued.

"Another Muggle thing, I assume," he commented. "Things work differently among the Wizarding community. Only in marriage can a father claim his child. Marriage is a binding and everlasting circumstance as well. I've heard that Muggles practice something called... divorce? That doesn't happen here. Marriage is for life."

"You're leaving a lot of things to chance, if that's the case," she observed. "If what you say is true, then we might as well all ready be married, technically if not officially."

He thought a moment before answering, "In a sense, yes. But you still have a chance to walk out of it, if you choose. You aren't bound yet. In fact, I still have almost a year before we can actually marry. I'm putting my trust in us, in our love for one another."

Hermione sighed, "I know. You have to be seventeen in the Wizarding World. You're only sixteen. But, Draco, a lot can happen in nine months."

"I know for a fact it will," he responded. "You might very well change your mind about me come June."

She raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it," she disagreed. "I don't know your plans, Draco, but I don't think they'll be enough to keep me away from you. Like you said, we both have secrets. We both have a job to do. You have to protect your parents. I have to stop Voldemort... I do not doubt that there will be times when I will think about changing my mind. We'll most likely exchange words, but I'm not leaving you. I love you, Draco Malfoy. Hell or high water, I will be your wife. Nothing will come between us and our happiness."

He smile and kissed her tenderly. "Spoken like a true Malfoy."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note:** I know this is a really short chapter with not much of anything except Hermione's thoughts. I promise you, there is a valid reason for this. These thought are completely necessary for the next chapter.

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_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Nine

The next day, Hermione thought over all that had happened. She was engaged to Draco Malfoy! The feeling was both exhilarating and troubling. She was most definitely in love with him. But, at the same time, she knew how her friends would react. She, Hermione Granger, was set to marry Draco Malfoy.

She had to repeat the thought several times in her mind before she was able to believe it. Three months ago, if someone would've told her she'd be happily marrying Malfoy, she would've had them checked by Madam Pomfrey. Now, she was gleefully excited about the prospect.

She knew she had to tell Harry and Ron... eventually. She couldn't hide it from them forever, especially with Harry's slowly developing sense that Draco was a Death Eater and "up to something." She feared the day he looked on the map and caught her talking to the blond-haired boy. Or worse... snogging him.

Her thoughts traveled to other events that occurred that night. She and Draco had stayed together until the early morning hours. They chatted, danced, kissed. He had been a gentleman, keeping to his promise not to really try anything until she was ready. But, there were moments when she wondered if perhaps he might go over board. She knew he wanted to.

She sighed softly to herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him, she just wasn't ready. She didn't know how she knew this, it was just a feeling she had. It was as if some force was telling her to wait.

Harry and Ron had questioned her when she finally managed to show up in the Great Hall. "Where did you go last night," Ron had whispered over breakfast. "You look exhausted."

"I was in the library, studying," she had lied. "I wanted to make sure my Ancient Runes paper was correct. You two should think about studying, too. N.E.W.T.S are very important and aren't that far away."

"But, we don't take our N.E.W.T.S until next year!" Ron had complained.

So, they let her go back to the library. While she did spend some of her time studying, she also began other research. Draco had told her the ring was old, created by the first Malfoy. She wanted to know more.

She pulled an old thick tome off the shelf and brought it to a table. She had found this tome among others like it deep within the library's crevices. The tome housed names and information about the oldest pureblood families.

She opened the tome and allowed the cover to fall upon the table with a heavy, dusty thump. It wasn't hard to find the Malfoy name, for they were one of the oldest families. Soon she was able to locate the first Malfoy to ever set foot in Hogwarts.

"Malfoy, Julius," she read. "Born 5th of June 1480. House Prefect for Slytherin from 1495-1496. Head Boy 1497. Married Gryffindor Half-Blood Evalon O'Reilly on 7th of July 1497 and bestowed upon her the Everlasting Heart. (see _Magical Artifacts of the Medieval Times_) Fathered a son named Alexander and two daughters named Evangelon and Gwendolyn. No Malfoy has bore a daughter since."

She glanced at the painting next to the small paragraph. Her heart almost stopped. Illustrated there was almost an exact likeness of Draco, though the caption read "Malfoy, Julius." Upon closer inspection, Hermione saw that Julius' hair was slightly longer than Draco's, though not by much. The white-blond do was slicked back and perfect steel eyes gazed at her. She watched the painting as he poked his chest out and struck a pose. Then, he gave her a smile that most definitely spoke of Draco. She returned his smile meekly as she gently closed the book.

_The Everlasting Heart_, she wondered. Was the book talking about her ring?

She stood up and brought the book back to it's location. She then began searching for _Magical Artifacts of Medieval Times_. Since she knew the library well, it didn't take her long to track the book down.

She brought the book, which had been almost as thick as the ancestry book, to her table and opened it. She searched the index for "Everlasting Heart" and then flipped to the page it indicated. Her eyes widened when she saw the illustration. Eagerly, she took out her ring and compared the ring to the drawing. It was a perfect rendition. She read the passage:

"There are not many stories that tell a love like the one shared between pureblood Julius Malfoy and half-blood Evalon O'Reilly. Full of romance and tragedy, their love will be remembered through history as the greatest love of our time.

"They both attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1491-1497. Julius was a member of Slytherin House, Evalon was a Gryffindor. Their love was slow in formation, for at first they despised one another. Then, a terrible tragedy occurred to Julius and Evalon had nursed him back to health. Their love grew from there.

"When Julius decided he wanted to marry Evalon, he chose to create a special ring. This ring, shown drawn on this page, was made to symbolize their love. A deep ruby, two emeralds, and two diamonds were held together on a golden band. The jewels and the band symbolized the unity of their Houses. The emeralds and diamonds were smaller than the ruby to show how much he worshipped her.

"At the same time, Evalon had decided to create Julius a special ring. This ring, also shown on this page, was to symbolize her love for him. The largest stone was a large emerald surrounded by small rubies and held together with gold and platinum weaved in an effortless braid.

"The Everlasting Heart and Soul are rings that are very little understood. It is said that the Heart can protect it's wearer. The Soul alerts it's wearer for when the Heart is in danger. A special bond was created between the rings, for these rings were made of love, which is the strongest of all magics. Only two people truly in love can possess these rings. Only Julius and Evalon could fully comprehend everything these rings could do.

"When their son came of age, Evalon and Julius had decided to hand the rings down to him. 'Be forewarned, my dear son,' Evalon had told him. 'Choose your wife carefully and wisely. Make sure you love her and that love is everlasting. Once she has been chosen and the ring is placed upon her finger, she is to be your wife for all eternity. She will be the only one capable of carrying your child and passing on our bloodline.'

"And so the rings were cursed. Passed from mother and father to their eldest son throughout the ages. The spells Evalon and Julius had placed upon the rings can only be broken by true love's extinction."

"True love's extinction?" Hermione questioned. What did that mean?

_"If I decide that I don't want to marry you, or if you decide you no longer wish to marry me, then I will never marry," Draco said. "If I take if from you, the spell will be broken. The Malfoy line will end with me."_

Realization of what those words meant caused Hermione to shudder. The existence and continuance of one of the oldest pureblood families rested in the hands of Hermione Granger. And she, like Evalon, was not a pureblood.

(II)

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A few months later, Hermione wanted to take it back. She wanted to find a way out of this promise to Draco and be done with him. Who cared about his stupid bloodline? It was his own fault for choosing someone he knew bloody well would get pissed off at him.

She tried so hard to convince Harry that Draco wasn't a Death Eater. Well, as much as she could. It wasn't like she could tell him that she had seen Draco's arm. But, luckily, Ron had been on her side as well.

But, then Katie Bell almost died. Hermione denied Draco's involvement in Katie's horrible experience. He had been in detention with Professor McGonagall! There was no way he could have done it.

But, what about the missed Quidditch game? Draco loved Quidditch as much as Harry and Ron did. And what about the two girls he had been seen with by Harry himself? He would _never_ miss a game, unless...

She didn't want to think about it. She couldn't think about it. She loved Draco. She knew in her heart that he would never intentionally hurt anyone. But, then why did she have this horrible feeling that he had been involved with Katie's accident?

Slughorn's Christmas party had come sooner than Hermione cared to think. She had been happy to see Harry bring Luna. She knew the girl needed a few good friends. It was very sweet of him.

She had gotten stuck with MacLaggen. All to get back at Ron, though she wasn't sure as to why. It wasn't like she really had feelings for Ron. At least, not like that. She just hated it when Ron was a presumptuous pig.

She had been completely surprised when she had seen Mr. Filch enter the party dragging Draco by the ear. Draco claimed he wanted to come to the party. Hermione had caught the lie instantly, even if Slughorn had not. Apparently, Snape had caught it as well, for he had informed Slughorn that he needed to reprimand Draco privately.

Hermione had watched the two leave. What was Draco doing up so late? She didn't buy his pathetic excuses for one second. Though she knew he envied Harry for Slughorn's interest, Draco wasn't the type to attend a party he wasn't invited to. What was he up to?

Was Harry right about Draco? Was Draco working his way to become a Death Eater? What really happened to Katie Bell? Was Draco responsible for it, like Harry suspected? Where was Draco during Quidditch?

Christmas holidays were upon them and soon Hermione would be home. Knowing Draco, she knew he would show up to wish her a Happy Christmas. And she intended on getting answers.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note:** I'm not sure if ya'll are getting "updates" on the changes I'm making to my story. Just to let you know, it's not an update, just some editing. I realized last night that my chapters were missing the breaks that I had put in. Apparently, doesn't add breaks. So, to fix this, I've set up a Roman Numeral system for my chapters. So, if you get any "updates" in your email, you can just ignore them. I haven't changed the content of the story itself._**  
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_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Ten

Hermione sighed as she plopped down on her bed. It felt so good to be home! She had missed her parents so much and they obviously missed her. It had been easy to skip going to the Burrow this year. After all, she was apparently angry with Ron. But, that wasn't true at all.

If anything, she was happy for Ron. He deserved to have someone in his life. She just felt guilty. Though she had tried not to, Hermione knew she had led Ron on so many times. And now, she kept a terrible secret from him and Harry.

She though of telling Harry before they had departed, but decided not to. She had all ready lost one best friend, she did not need to lose Harry, too. Besides, he needed her.

She wasn't even certain this secret would last much longer. She felt betrayed and deceived. She wanted to take the ring and shove it down Draco's throat. To Hell with the Malfoy line!

_"I'm not leaving you. I love you, Draco Malfoy. Hell or high water, I will be your wife. Nothing will come between us and our happiness."_

Hermione shrunk at her remembered vow. Why did she make such a proclamation? What part of her brain told her, convinced her, that a promise like that was a smart idea? Apparently not the rational part.

She wanted to throw the ring. She held it in her hand and studied it. She remembered all the good things. The passionate kisses tender touches, and romantic dances swept through her memory. The sound of his voice whispering her name was brought to the forefront of her mind. It was like the sweet melody of their song.

"Hermione!" called a voice, causing her to start.

She opened the door and peered down the staircase. Her mother smiled up at her. "You have a visitor."

Hermione stood there a moment, blinking. Who could possibly be calling at this ridiculous hour? Curious, she tucked her ring back into her pocket and descended the stairwell. She hadn't told her parents of her engagement yet, nor was she certain her mysterious visitor would know about it.

Her knees nearly failed her when she saw him. There, waiting by the hearth, he was. He looked so pale, almost sickly. His white-blond hair was slicked back elegantly. His light gray eyes watched her step towards him. He wore black robes and a soft, but weary smile. Judging by his looks, he was exhausted.

"Hermione," he whispered, holding open his arms.

Hearing her name whispered so softly, so invitingly, on his lips almost caused her to forget. She had just about run into his arms. Memories of their days spent together poured over her like rain.

She took a step forward and then stopped. "No," she growled, gaining control of her actions. "We need to talk."

At first he fixed her with a puzzled stare, unsure what she could be talking about. Then, he must have realized she was angry, for his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "About?" he questioned.

She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "There's no need for that tone. If anyone should be angry, it should be me."

Her parents glanced back and forth between the teenagers. She knew they did not know what was going on. Thankfully, they decided to not push the matter. They quietly bowed out, mumbling about taking a walk. When they left, Draco took a step forward.

"No," she commanded. "Just stay there."

"What is your problem, Hermione?" he demanded, frustrated, but he stayed where he was.

"Does Katie Bell bring anything to mind?" she questioned. "What about Slughorn's party?"

Now his face was starting to get some colour. His cheeks were pink in anger, his gray eyes turned to steel. Good. She wanted him to be angry.

"I know nothing..." he began.

"Liar!" she shouted, cutting him off. "Don't lie to me, Draco! You've lied enough all ready. I want to know the truth! And I want to know now. Are you responsible for what happened to Katie Bell?"

"I was in detention when she got hurt," he snapped. "How can I be responsible?"

"I remember that necklace being in Borgin and Burkes," she told him. "I questioned Borgin about it, but he didn't say much. Did you buy it?"

"If you and your little friends wouldn't spy on me..."

She could feel how hot her face was. "You _did_ buy it," she concluded. "Who was the necklace for? Harry? Dumbledore?"

"Look, I told you. I have something important to do," he grounded out. "I can't tell you what it is. I'm sorry for what happened to Bell, but it wasn't my fault. That package was wrapped..."

"I knew it!" she burst, interrupting again. "Somehow, I knew. Draco, she almost died. She would have died had it not been for Professor Snape. And, yes, it would have been your fault. How did you give it to her?"

"I didn't," he argued. "If you'd listen, I was in detention. I did not go to Hogsmeade. How can I give her something if I'm not even there?"

"That's what I'm asking you," she snipped. "How did you do it?"

"I didn't," he repeated.

She stamped her foot in agitation. She took the ring out of her pocket and showed it to him. "Do you remember this? Do you remember what we said to one another?"

He stared at the ring. "Of course I do," he answered. "How could I forget?"

"I need you to promise me something, Draco," she told him. "Promise me you won't walk down your father's path. Promise me you won't become a Death Eater. Promise me..." she choked. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. "Promise me.. I won't.. lose you... to the darkness... I need you, Draco... I need you."

She was sobbing at this point. She closed her eyes to her blurred vision. She felt him wrap his arms around her and did not fight him. Instead, she accepted his embrace and weeping into his chest. "I can't lose you," she whispered into his chest. "Please, just.. go to Dumbledore. Ask him for help..."

He broke their embrace and held her at arm's length. His steel eyes bore into hers. "I won't become a Death Eater," he promised. "Nor will I leave you. You're not going to lose me. However, I will not go to Dumbledore for anything. I will not ask him for anything. This is my task. He won't stop me from completing it."

"What if he could help?" she questioned.

He shook his head. "He can't. There's nothing he can do. This is for me."

"What are you trying to prove, Draco?" she asked, her red, wet eyes filling up with more tears.

He sighed, "Look, I just came by because I wanted to spend Christmas with you. I'm not sure how much time we'll be able to spend together after we get back to school."

"I _am_ losing you, aren't I?" she sniffed.

He kissed her gently on the lips and whispered, "No, you are not, darling. You won't lose me. Not now, not ever."

"Promise me you won't kill anyone?" she requested. "Promise me you won't stain your hands with blood."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "The Dark Lord is back, Hermione. He's back and he's gaining strength. Before all of this is over, even your hands will be stained with blood. Especially if you plan on following Potter, like I know you are."

She accepted his embrace without question. She knew he spoke the truth, but it broke her heart. She wept silently into his chest.

(II)

(II)

Crookshanks wasn't your ordinary house cat. Actually, he wasn't even a full cat, he was half kneazle. He had an intelligence that overlooked most house cats. Plus, he was owned by Hermione Granger.

He wasn't a very good-looking cat. He was much too large. He had long, orange tabby fur and a bushy tail. His face was flat and smashed against the rest of his head.

None of these things mattered to Crookshanks. He was perfectly content with his life. He loved his mistress and she loved him.

Course, the same couldn't be said of the boy who was currently asleep next to his mistress. The cat hated that boy. Hated him because he knew what was going to occur eventually. Though they were not mated yet, Crookshanks knew it was only a matter of time before his mistress would mate with the boy.

The cat had been appalled when he learned of his mistress's choice. He didn't hide his dislike, either. He would hiss and spit at the boy. If the boy came too near, he would attempt to swipe at him. It took every ounce of Crookshank's love for his mistress to keep from ripping the pale-faced, blond-haired boy open.

But, with a soft mew, he knew he would have to accept his circumstances. His mistress loved this boy and she was happy with him. So, Crookshanks did his best to not hurt the boy.

And yet, Crookshanks thought as he looked up at his mistress with loving eyes, if his mistress was so happy with this boy, why was she crying?

(III)

(III)

She couldn't believe she had done it again. How had she allowed her emotions to drift out of control? What was wrong with her?

The day before had been a complete and utter disaster. He had come, unannounced, to her home wanting to spend time with her. She had asked him questions, but received no answers. He had managed to tell her nothing.

And yet, there he was lying in her bed, sleeping. Her soft flowery sheets covered his lower body, leaving his shirtless chest bare to her. She sighed as tears dripped unchecked from her eyes. She silently prayed for strength. She knew what she had to do and she hated herself for it.

No matter how hard she tried, she loved him. She couldn't deny it, couldn't hide it. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't lie to herself about it. She loved him. And, because of her love, she couldn't actually end things with him. She couldn't do that to him. Couldn't hurt him. But, she had to do something.

Leaning slightly over, she kissed him on the cheek. He moaned and a soft, mischievous smile played on his lips. "Good morning, darling," he whispered, opening his steely eyes. His smile turned into a concerned frown when he saw her tears. "What's wrong?"

He sat up next to her and she snuggled into his arms as she cried. She did not know how long it would be before they would be together again, if ever. It broke her heart to know that their fate could be destined for failure, just like Romeo and Juliet.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and prepared herself. With each word as agonizing as the last, she began, "Draco, I love you. And I know you love me. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

He rubbed her back. "I know, my love. I feel the same way. Seeing you get hurt would tear me apart. Losing you would just..."

"Then you know how hard this is for me," she rationalized, seeing that he wasn't going to finish his sentence, instead let it stay up in the air. She looked up at him, brown eyes met gray. "I think you should go."

"What?!" he asked, taken aback.

"Go, Draco," she told him. "Go home. Be with your family. You do what you have to do keep them safe."

"And you? What will you do?" he questioned, his eyes hardening with indignation.

"I will save you," she said simply.

Now he was surprised. His eyes softened as he tried to let this sink in. "You are going to save me?" he snipped. "How are you proposing to do that?"

She rolled her eyes. She was no longer crying, but she knew her eyes were still red and puffy. "By remembering our promise," she answered, showing him the ring on her finger. "I'm going to help Harry defeat Voldemort. If we can achieve this, then you will be free and we can move on with our lives."

He sighed, "I don't know what the three of you are planning, but... just... be careful. Anything you do has a chance of being disastrous. I don't want to see you get killed."

"I know what I'm getting myself into," she told him. "I know the risks I'm taking. But, if I don't do this, if we don't try, then everything will be lost. You and I won't ever be together, except in secrets. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of the secrets."

He threw her a smirk. "Can you imagine the two of us, arm in arm, walking the corridors of Hogwarts? The shocked looks and blatant stares?"

"'Is that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger?'" Hermione quipped. "'And here I thought he hated Mudbloods. Look at that, a pureblood with a Mudblood.'"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. "I don't ever want to hear that word come out of your mouth again," he told her. Though she knew he was teasing, she could sense a faint seriousness in his words.

They got dressed, taking turns in the bathroom, before making their way downstairs. Hermione did not want to let him go. The fear of not knowing the outcome of this war overwhelmed her. What if, after today, she'll never get to hold him again?

When they approached the fireplace, they embraced. She did not want to let him go. She wanted to remain in his arms forever. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered, brushing his lips softly against her ear.

She tipped her head back a bit and gave him a watery smile. "I love you too, Draco," she breathed.

He pressed his lips against hers and she felt her body go numb. The only thing she could feel was him. And he felt wonderful. Their kiss spoke of their longing and desire for one another. The feel and taste of his tongue, his lips, was something she branded into her mind as she gave him the opportunity to do the same. She wanted to remember this moment for a long, long time.

When they finally broke apart, she gazed at him, tears rolling from her eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Opening the box, he took out a golden chain with five silver forget-me-knots linked around it.

"You can put your ring on this and keep the ring close to your heart," he suggested. "I don't want you to forget about us."

She smiled as she took the necklace. Choking back a sob, she replied, "Don't forget me, either. Whether it's noticeable now or not, you and I are in this together. This is us. Our destiny, our life. No matter what."

He kissed her tenderly one last time. Then, he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. With his free hand, he blew her a kiss. Then, dropping the Floo Powder, he commanded, "Malfoy Manor." He disappeared in a puff of green flame.


	12. Chapter Eleven

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Eleven

Regardless of what Harry had told her after Christmas, Hermione still wanted to believe Draco was simply a victim of circumstance. But Harry's suspicions had been aided by Snape's. Snape thought Draco was up to something as well.

And, she knew they were right, but for all the wrong reasons, she was sure. She knew Draco was up to something. There was no denying it. He had told her as much. A task was set to him by Voldemort himself. And while Hermione hoped for the best, she knew it wasn't a good task. It was something bad.

She sat in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was late and she was alone. She took her necklace out from under her robes and began playing with her ring. She still couldn't get over the idea of being engaged to Draco.

A small smile played on her lips as she fantasized about what their life would be like once Voldemort was gone. She even toyed with the idea of Lucius and Narcissa accepting her into their family with open arms. She nearly snorted at the thought. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy accept a Mudblood? How absurd!

Eventually her thoughts came to Voldemort. If she and the boys could destroy that monster, then she might actually have a chance with Draco. Regardless of whether his parents accepted her or not, they would have to at least get used to her.

She had researched about Horcruxes, but found nothing. She felt helpless and useless. She felt betrayed by the library, for she was so certain there would be at least _something_ there. She literally combed the entire library, but came up empty-handed. Hopefully, Harry and Dumbledore would have better luck.

"Did Malfoy give you that?" said a voice, startling Hermione from her thoughts.

She looked up and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Dean Thomas. She raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?" she asked.

He shrugged as he joined her by the fireplace. "I figured as much. Never seen two people act the way you did that night at Martha's party. Have you told Harry and Ron yet?"

She shook her head. "I want to, I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. Ron and I aren't talking right now and I fear I'll lose Harry."

Dean sighed, "You won't lose Harry. He's your best friend. He'll be angry, I think. But, that's because you're like a sister to him. I think eventually he will understand. As for Ron, I think he misses you. He thinks you're angry at him because of Lavender Brown."

"I know," she commented. "And, I'm not. Honestly. I'm happy for him. I just feel so..."

"Guilty?" he offered. At her nod, he continued, "I don't blame you. I mean, don't they see Malfoy as an enemy? His father's a Death Eater and I'm sure Harry believes Malfoy is walking the same path. And you know Ron has always fancied you. He'll be crushed when he finds out."

"Yes, but what do I do? How do I tell them?" she questioned.

Instead of answering right away, he pointed at the ring. "What exactly is that?"

She showed it to him, letting the firelight dance off the stones. "It's called the Everlasting Heart. It's an engagement ring that's been passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy through the ages. Draco has it's pair, the Everlasting Soul."

"So, you and Malfoy are engaged?" he asked.

She nodded and then added, "I think there's more to it then that, though. According to the actual magic of the rings, he and I are already married, though unofficially. I still have a chance to back out, from what he told me. Course, I don't think he's right. I think I'm already stuck."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell you why I was with Draco that night, did I?" she asked. He shook his head and she sighed, "You promise you won't tell?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You are wearing an engagement ring and are getting married to Draco Malfoy. Thus far, I haven't told a soul about the party. Not even Seamus or Ginny. And I tell those two practically everything. I won't tell anyone anything you tell me."

She nodded and told him about the incident that ended up with Draco at her home. She told him about the loss of Draco's magic and the spell they had spoken moments before his magic returned. "I researched that spell," she told him. "It's called _Pectus pectoris Animus._ It's a spell where you bind two souls together."

"Soul mates," Dean commented.

"Yes," she confirmed. "And very much so. I think the reason Draco's magic returned was because of this spell. When my soul and his soul bound themselves together, the trauma that caused his loss of power became overruled."

"Love conquers all," he snipped. "So, what you're telling me is this: You're not _getting_ married to Draco Malfoy. You _are_ married to Draco Malfoy."

Slowly, she let out a breath. "I believe so," she answered. "I don't think Draco understands this, though. Even he was shocked about the spell. From what I know, performing this spell is very rare. Those who do it don't even know what they are performing, nor all the implications that go with it."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, Mrs. Malfoy, the best advice I can give you is to tell them. Start from the beginning, like you did with me. Tell them everything, including Martha's party and this ring. And tell them soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."

She silently agreed and watched as Dean got up. He bade her good night and left her in her thoughts.

(II)

(II)

Hermione pulled Harry into an empty classroom, ignoring his protests. "I need to speak to you," she whispered anxiously. Glancing around her surroundings, she quickly closed the classroom door and sealed it with a spell.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked, surprised by her behaviour.

She pointed at the Marauder's Map. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Watching Malfoy," he responded, fixing his robes. "He keeps disappearing and I'm trying to find out where he's going."

She sighed. She didn't have time for this. "Look, I have something important to tell you. But, you've got to promise me two things: you won't get angry and you won't tell Ron."

He looked at her skeptically. She knew what he was thinking. She never asked him to not be angry. What she had to say could not possibly be good. "What's this about?" he questioned curiously.

"First, promise me," she demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, but slowly nodded. "All right. I promise."

She gave a sigh and walked over to one of the desks. As she sat down, she began relating her story. She studied Harry's expression as she told him about Draco's accident and the chaos it ensued. She knew he was hurt when she recounted the party and the kiss. She knew he was shocked to learn of the ring and promise. She had even gone further and detailed to him about the incident at Christmas. She did _not_, however, tell him about her and Draco sharing a bed.

Harry had remained silent throughout the entire account. Even now that she was finished, he was silent. His expression was difficult to read. Did he hate her? Did he despise her? Did she just lose her best friend?

"Harry, please," she begged. "Say something."

"Wha-" he croaked. He straightened his voice and tried again, "What do you want me to say? Personally, I think you've gone mental. He's Malfoy, Hermione. Not only is he a prat, but he's also a Death..."

"He's not a Death Eater," she stopped him. "I've seen his arms and I can assure you, he does not bare the Dark Mark."

"He showed you his arms?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded. "I had asked him if he were a Death Eater. In response, he pulled back his sleeves and showed me his arms."

"Well, he's bloody well on his way to becoming one," he snapped. "What the hell are you thinking, Hermione? This is Malfoy, for Christ's sake! He's not just some good-looking guy who you can have a passing fancy with! I laughed when you dated Viktor Krum, but this is different. This is Draco Malfoy. Do you realize the repercussions..."

"Stop it, Harry!" she shouted, standing up. Tears stained her cheeks. When had she started crying? She couldn't remember. It didn't matter. "Of course I realize the repercussions. I know what could happen. I know the risks. Don't you think I worry about it every waking _and_ sleeping moment of my life? There is not a minute that passes where I don't wonder what is going to happen. I can't help how I feel, Harry. I didn't ask this to happen. I didn't ask to fall in lo..."

"Don't say it," he snarled. They glared at each other before he continued in a deathly calm, "I can't believe you've done this. I've never known you to make stupid decisions before, Hermione. You've never been known to screw up. Now I know why. When you _do_ screw up, it's major."

"I did not 'screw up'," she argued.

He rolled his eyes. "This isn't like you," he sighed, his anger leveling off. "What about Ron?"

She gasped, "You promised you wouldn't tell him."

"And I won't," he promised. "But you should. It's not fair to him. He thinks you're angry at him because he's snogging Lavender Brown. He doesn't deserve that, Hermione. He deserves the truth."

She agreed, "I know. I just... I don't know how to tell him. I can't tell him right now anyway. We have a job to do. And we need him. If I tell him now, he'll make you choose between the two of us. You know how his temper is. He's not going to easily forgive me. The most important thing right now is Voldemort and learning about those Horcruxes."

"What about Draco? Has he told you anything?" Harry questioned. "Like where he goes when he's not on the map?"

She shook her head. "All I know is Voldemort gave him some kind of task to complete. From what I can gather, Draco's life depends upon it's success."

"You haven't told him about what we are up to?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"I did not," she answered. "I've told him nothing of any importance. Neither of us has spoken much of our jobs. There's too much risk involved. It's not easy for us. I haven't seen him in two months."

He rolled his eyes. "You see him all the time in class," he pointed out.

She gave him a half smile. "Not really. We rarely make eye contact. And when we do, we sneer at one another or quickly look away. It's all a show. Contemptuous looks that mean nothing to us and everything to everyone else."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good acting," he snipped sarcastically.

She sighed, "It's not like we haven't had practice. Five years of hating each other, the looks become easy. It's just that now, we don't mean them."

"Are you certain?" he questioned.

She took out the Heart and showed it to him. She closed her eyes as she felt the ring's warmth flow through her. "As certain as death," she said, cryptically, opening her eyes to look at him.

"That's not funny, Hermione," he growled. He glanced at the ring and sighed, "I still think this is the stupidest thing you've ever done. But, I'm willing to accept it... for now."

"That's all I wanted."

(III)

(III)

A couple of weeks later found Hermione feeling even worse. She stood outside the hospital wing pacing anxiously back and forth. Oh, God! How could this happen?

Ron had been poisoned. Thankfully, Harry had been there to save him. Had he not...

Hermione didn't want to think about it. Ron was one of her best friends. She couldn't imagine what life would've been like without him.

Harry stepped out of the hospital wing and Hermione threw her arms around him. She was hysterical when she asked, "What happened? Is he okay?"

Harry tried to calm her down by rubbing her back. "He's going to be okay," he assured her.

He told her about the Chocolate Cauldrons and their trip to Slughorn's office. He told her how Ron had drank the poisoned mead. It was lucky Slughorn had a bezeor in his office, otherwise Ron would have died.

"Oh, Harry, thank God you were there," she gasped. "With Slughorn panicking like he did, Ron would've been gone before there was a chance of saving him."

"Do you want to see him?" he questioned.

Hermione nodded and Harry led her into the hospital. She gazed down at Ron's near lifeless form. Seeing him so helpless was heart-wrenching. She wanted to wake him up, to hear his voice.

For some reason, Draco came to her mind. She remembered seeing Draco in this state not too long ago. She had been so worried about him. Now, it was Ron's turn.

She never told Ron about Draco. She could feel the pangs of guilt well up in the pit of her stomach. Ron could have died and he would never had known about her and Draco. Would never had known about her betrayal.

Ron didn't take news very well. He always jumped to conclusions and had a really short temper. He would not have seen passed her betrayal as easily as Harry did. He wouldn't have been as forgiving.

She knew she needed to tell him. But, for a little while longer, she would keep silent.

She knelt down by Ron's bed and cried.

(IV)

(IV)

Harry was still convinced that Draco was going to do something bad. Hermione _knew_ Draco was going to do something bad. She just did not know what.

Harry did not bother her much about it when they were around Ron. For that, Hermione was grateful. She still hadn't told her red-headed friend and she knew now wasn't the best time. Ron was still recovering in the hospital wing.

When Ron wasn't looking, though, Harry would glare at Hermione. When Ron wasn't around, she got an earful. "I know he's up to something," Harry would comment. "I intend on finding out what it is, too. And when I do..."

"Yes, I know," she snapped, irritably. She wondered briefly how long he was going to repeat himself. "When you find out, you're going to stop him, regardless of any promises I might have made or anything that he might have said to me. You don't give a bloody damn if he lives or dies and you can't understand why I would. If he were to die, the world would be a much happier place, even though I wouldn't. Did I miss anything?"

"Hermione, why do you care so much about him?" he questioned.

"Why do you keep obsessing?" she shot back. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You're more on his tail than ever before since I told you about us."

"Did I tell you I saw him with two girls the day of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin game?" he asked. "Did I tell you the three of them were walking away from the crowd into the castle by themselves?"

"Oh, only about ten thousand times," she exaggerated. Actually, this was only the sixth time he had mentioned it. But, who's counting?

"What about on the train when he was cozying up to Pansy Parkinson?" he pressed.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "We've had this discussion too many times. Drop it, Harry. You're not going to make me jealous and I'm not leaving him. So, get over it."

"How do I know you're not going to tell him anything?" he inquired. "We are doing some really risky stuff. I can't chance anyone finding out."

She sighed. She had all ready answered that question as well. "You're just going to have to trust me," she told him. "In all our years together, have I ever done anything to question my loyalty? Aside from falling for Draco?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he confirmed. "I'm sorry. I'm just... worried. I don't want to see you get hurt. And Draco Malfoy is just the type to do that."

She smiled and touched his shoulder. "There's nothing to worry about. I'll be all right. You'll see. We just need to focus on Voldemort. We'll worry about Draco and my feelings later."

(V)

(V)

The Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had been disastrous. It had also landed Harry in the hospital wing next to Ron.

Hermione took the extra time to concentrate on her studies. Though she figured she was doing well, one could never be too careful. She worked long, hard hours in the library and in the Gryffindor Common Room.

The day Harry and Ron got out of the hospital, Hermione happily joined them, escorting them to breakfast. The friendship between her and Ron seemed to blossom even more. She no longer avoided conversation with him.

She was confident that Harry wouldn't say anything to Ron. So, she continued on as if nothing was happening. After all, it wasn't like Draco was going to make a grab for her in the middle of the hall and snog her senselessly. (Though, that would have been thrilling, to say the least.) Especially not with so many people around. They both had reputations and appearances to protect.

Harry hadn't been to happy with Hermione's decision. "You need to tell him," he snapped at her one evening after Ron had gone up to bed.

"I know," she replied. "And I will. Just, not right now. We need to focus on these Horcruxes. All three of us. We need to work together. You need to get that memory and... would you put that book away!"

He had been flipping though the Prince's book yet again. Hermione hated that book. It just... didn't feel right to her. Something about it made her uneasy.

"There might be something in here..." he feebly argued.

"There isn't, Harry," she confirmed. "You all ready checked several times. Use your brain for once."

She had been surprised about Harry using the house elves to trail Draco, but she didn't scold Harry too much. She knew he wanted to catch Draco, but she doubted he would. When they learned the identities of the girls, she found herself smiling snuggly.

"I wonder what Draco was doing with those two girls," she mentioned later that night when Ron had gone to the boy's lavatory.

"Harry sneered, "Probably proving his orientation."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You just don't want to admit you were wrong," she observed. "You made a false accusation..."

"Yes, but you can't deny I'm right about one thing: he is up to something," he retorted.

She conceded his point. She then returned the subject back to Slughorn and the missing memory.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note**: This is probably the longest chapter I have ever wrote to date. Literally. And this includes the other stories I have written. With this said, we have also reached our halfway point, ladies and gentlemen. So, please, let me know how this story has come along thus far.

Another note: I realize this story is a bit fluffy. Unfortunately, I had to do it like this. Mostly because, I needed to get the two together in a relatively short span of time. I mean, there's only so many days to a month and so many months to a summer. And I really wanted to get them together before Hermione returned to the Burrow, which we all know happens some time between Harry's return to the Dursley's and Harry's birthday. (So, what, mid-June? until July... 27th or 31st?)

This particular chapter has a very intimate scene at the end, so if you don't like this, then please skip over it. However, I believe it would be a waste to do so because it's such a, in my opinion, beautiful scene. And yes, it will be explained in the next chapter!

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_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twelve

It took every bit of self control to keep Hermione from not lashing out at Harry. She knew it had been an accident, but that excuse was not good enough for her. She had warned him _repeatedly_ about that stupid book. Had told him it was not good. And now, look at what happened!

She consoled herself somewhat by yelling at Harry. She wanted to do more. She wanted to rip his heart into small pieces like he had done to her. She wanted him to feel as she did.

Ginny tried to defend him. But Hermione wouldn't hear of it. To her, it didn't matter what Draco had tried to do, Harry should have thought of something else. He should not have known about that spell in the first place.

Hermione left the Common Room a bit later and made her way to Myrtle's bathroom. She knew she would be alone there, for the most part. At least, according to what Harry had said about Myrtle's interests in Draco, Hermione would be in like company.

She slammed the door shut and placed a locking spell on it. No one would be able to disturb her now. She stepped up to the sink intending to wash her face, but somewhere along the way, she lost feeling in her legs. She let herself collapse into a heap of robes and sobs.

Harry was one of her best friends. He was also one of the _very_ few people who knew how she felt about Draco. He knew about the promise. How could he do this to her?

Draco had come to mean everything to Hermione. Though they couldn't be close at the moment, she still felt him with her. She still felt his pain, his sorrow. It was as if their souls were connected. Then again, according to the ancient books, by her having the Everlasting Heart, their souls _were_ connected.

She heard the ghost before she saw her. Sitting up, Hermione wiped her eyes. "Hello, Myrtle," she whispered before going into another fit of sobs.

"Why are you crying?" the ghost asked, though the concern in her voice seemed at bit strained. "Feeling sorry for Harry?"

Hermione shook her head. "Actually, I'm crying because of Draco Malfoy," she answered. "When I heard what Harry had done to him..."

"It was dreadful!" the ghost told her. "I should know. I witnessed the whole thing."

Hermione sniffed, "Would you mind telling me what happened? I need to hear it from someone who... who cares about them both."

Myrtle seemed more than delighted to regale her version of the events. Draco had gone into the boy's bathroom. He was extremely upset and worried about something. He was crying, saying that he was failing and that someone was going to kill him.

Just then, Harry showed up. The boys started dueling, even though Myrtle was screaming for them to stop. Then, Harry hit Draco with that horrible spell. Myrtle panicked and flew out of the bathroom, screaming about the murder.

"Thank Merlin he didn't die," Hermione breathed. Thinking she might incidentally insult Myrtle with the comment, she quickly added, "Not that dying is a bad thing. I just..."

"You love him, don't you?" the ghost guessed, much to Hermione's surprise. "You love Draco... Don't worry, I won't tell."

Hermione, startled momentarily by Myrtle's guess, smiled when the ghost promised not to tell. "Thank you, Myrtle," she said.

"Does he love you, too?" Myrtle asked.

Hermione pulled out her necklace and showed it to the ghost. "Once Voldemort is destroyed, Draco and I plan on getting married," she explained. "But you can't tell a soul. Especially not right now. Harry, Ron, and I have something very important to do. So does Draco. If anyone learns of us..." her voice trailed off.

Myrtle sighed, "It's a bit sad, isn't it? Draco and Harry are both nice guys. I have fun talking to them. It's so nice that they come and visit me. It's a shame this happened. Do you think they'll still visit me? Are you going to visit Draco?"

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. Would she even be able to visit him? She wanted to, desperately wanted to. "I don't know that I can," she replied. "Remember, any interests Draco and I have in one another has to remain secret. No one can know. As far as anyone else is concerned, Draco and I are enemies."

Myrtle just smiled. "I can help you sneak in to see him. Tonight. Meet me back here after dinner. You can hide here until everyone else goes off to bed."

Though a bit uncertain, Hermione agreed and thanked the ghost. She opened the door to leave and came face to face with Harry.

"Hermione, I need to talk to you," he told her.

Immediately she turned on her heel and walked back into the bathroom. "I have nothing to say to you, Harry," she snipped.

Hermione counted her blessings when Myrtle glared at Harry. "You!" she shouted. "How dare you come here after what you've done! You are a horrible, dreadful little..."

"Myrtle, please," Harry begged. He looked at Hermione. "You know I would never do something like that one purpose, Hermione. I didn't realize what that spell did."

"Oh, so you just decide to use an untried spell on Draco? Is that it, Harry?" the girl demanded, wheeling around to glare at him. "Forget all pretenses. Let's just hit the guy Hermione loves with a spell that is unknown and potentially dangerous. Who cares if something bad happens. It was the Prince's idea!"

Harry sighed, trying to remain calm. "I'm not trying to make excuses. I know what I did was wrong. But, he's okay now..."

"Thanks to Snape!" she interrupted him. "Had Snape not been there, Draco would have died. Could have died. I almost lost one person I'm close to this year. Now, thanks to you, I've almost lost a second."

"It's not like he didn't deserve it! He was..."

The slap rebounded off the bathroom walls, and silence boomed in it's wake. For a while, they just stared at one another.

Then, her voice full of malice, Hermione snarled, "Don't you _ever_ say that to me again. Draco may hate you as much as you hate him, but he belongs to me. If you ever try that again 'because he deserves it', you will lose me. Permanently. And that's a promise."

(II)

(II)

Right after dinner, Hermione hurried to Myrtle's bathroom and quickly locked the door. She hadn't bothered explaining things to Ron and she wasn't talking to Harry. She checked all the stalls to ensure no one else was there. "Myrtle?" she called.

The ghostly girl emerged from her cubicle looking pleased. "I didn't think you would come back," she commented.

Hermione shrugged. "I want to see him," she offered as explanation. "So, what's our plan?"

Myrtle gave a small giggle. "This is fun, isn't it? Sneaking around the castle to see our guy?"

Hermione pinched her lips. Though she knew the ghost was no threat, she didn't like the idea of "our guy." "Myrtle?" she prodded gently.

The ghost sighed, "For now, we just wait. That nasty Parkinson girl is with him right now. I know, I checked. We'll have to wait until she leaves. Once Madame Pomfrey closes up, we'll get to go."

"But, how do you propose we do that?" Hermione questioned. "I can't exactly glide through walls."

She held her breath momentarily, fearing she might have inadvertently insulted the ghost. However, the ghost just threw her an impish smile. "You can't, but I can."

(III)

(III)

_There's a first time for everything_, Hermione thought as she followed Myrtle through the corridors of the castle. At first, she feared she would get caught. Thankfully, the ghostly girl had kept her end of the bargain.

The hospital wing was just getting ready to close. Both girls knew that if they wanted any chance, they would have to get there before it actually did. Hermione would remain hidden while Myrtle discovered what spells Madame Pomfrey used on the doors. With any luck, Hermione will be able to break the spells and see Draco.

"Why can't I stay?" demanded an angry voice from around the corner.

Both girls froze. Hermione quickly dived behind a statue as the answer came in a short, annoyed reply, "He needs his rest, Miss Parkinson. You can come back tomorrow."

Myrtle disappeared as Pansy Parkinson rounded the corner. Hermione watched as the Slytherin, cursing about idiotic Healers, stormed passed her. The young Gryffindor almost felt sorry for the stocky girl. Almost.

A few moments later, Myrtle returned, annoyance written across her face. "You'd think a Healer would be smart," she growled. She looked at Hermione and huffed, "A simple unlocking spell should do it. There are no alarms and she's all ready gone off to bed."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Myrtle's demeanor. Perhaps Myrtle would've preferred a more challenging expedition, but Hermione was glad for the Healer's oversight. Quickly putting the thought out of her mind, Hermione turned back to her task. "Is it safe?" she asked the ghost.

Myrtle nodded. "Peeves is keeping Filch busy and there's no one else around," she responded.

Taking comfort in that, Hermione snuck out of her hiding spot. Approaching the door carefully, she pointed her wand at the lock and whispered, "_Alohomora_."

She heard a satisfying click that told her the door was unlocked. She hurried inside quietly and shut the door behind her. "_Muffliato!_" she whispered, pointing her wand at Madame Pomfrey's office.

Once she was certain the Healer couldn't hear her, Hermione made her way to the only occupied bed. She gazed down at his sleeping form as she took a seat next to him. _He must be really tired to fall asleep so fast_, she thought. She momentarily imagined him falling asleep bored to tears with Pansy Parkinson.

That thought made her smile. She reached up to gently brush a lock of white-blond hair off his forehead. Startled, she gasped when his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist in a vice like grip. "Draco, it's me," she whispered.

His gray eyes opened and he let go of her. "Hermione," he whispered, "what are you doing here?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I wanted to see you," she admitted. "I had to see you. I've been so worried about you. So upset. When I found out what happened..."

"Did you jinx Potter?" he asked amused, sitting up.

She shook her head. "Though, it wasn't from lack of wanting to," she growled. "Especially since he knew it would upset me."

He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "How would he know it would upset you?"

She saw the suspicious expression in his eyes. She took a deep breath. Time for the truth. "Well, for one, he used a spell he hadn't tried before, so he didn't know what it would do. And secondly..." she hesitated. Bracing herself for what she knew was coming, she confessed, "I told him about you and me."

"You did what?!" he spat, his face turning pink. "Hermione, I thought we agreed no one would know? I thought _we_ were going to keep it secret until _we_ decided to tell everyone _together_?"

She sighed, "I had to tell him, Draco. He would've found out anyway. Besides, it was just Harry."

"'It was just Harry,' she says," he mocked. "Is that suppose to make me feel better? Don't you know that whatever he knows, the Dark Lord will find out? I would've rather you told Weasel breath."

Hermione was on the verge of tears. "If I had told Ron, he would've told Harry anyway. I trust Harry. I know he won't say anything. And Voldemort won't find out. Harry's got more important things on his mind right now."

He was still angry. She could tell by the pink tint of his cheeks. However, when he spoke, it was with a much calmer voice. "Have you found anything yet? To defeat the Dark Lord, that is."

Hermione nodded, though she did not smile. "I can't tell you what it is--"

"I don't want to know what it is."

"-- But we think it's the key. If we succeed, Voldemort will be gone for good," she finished.

They sat there for a while, neither saying anything. That was when Draco noticed the ghost. "Myrtle? What are you doing here?" he asked.

The ghost gave a haunting smile. "I came to see you," she answered. "I helped Hermione sneak in. She told me about the two of you. I must say, I'm very pleased. It'll be quite the shock once the war is over. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. You'll be the topic for years to come."

He gave Hermione an astonished look. "You told Myrtle, too?"

The girl shrugged. "I've known Myrtle for years. I happen to know she's very good at keeping secrets. She's not going to tell anyone."

Myrtle giggled at the compliment. "I am. I have kept plenty of secrets."

Hermione nodded in agreement, remembering the time she had brewed Polyjuice Potion in Myrtle's bathroom. If Draco were to ever learn about that disaster... Well, there were _some_ secrets Hermione didn't _have_ to share with her "husband."

Draco sighed, "I'm surprised Madame Pomfrey hasn't heard us talking yet."

Hermione smiled at his comment. "She won't," she assured him.

He tilted her head. "You didn't hex her, did you?" he questioned.

Her eyes widened. "Now, Draco Malfoy, you know I would never do that to someone as important as Madame Pomfrey! I charmed her office so she couldn't hear us."

"Something you learned from a book, no doubt," he surmised, not realizing just how right he was.

Hermione blushed as she thought of the irony of his statement. _If only he knew_... "What did you expect?"

He laughed, which made her smile. "You know, this is the first time we've been alone since Christmas," he observed.

"We aren't alone," she corrected him. "Myrtle is here."

"If you want, I could leave for a few hours," the ghost suggested, surprising both teenagers. "I'll come back in two hours to help Hermione go to her House without getting caught. That should give you plenty of time to catch up."

Both were astonished at Myrtle's blatant suggestion and generosity. Hermione started, "Oh, Myrtle, we couldn't ask you..."

"But, you aren't asking," the ghost argued. "I'm offering. I'll be back in two hours."

Before the two could protest any more, the ghost drifted out of the hospital wing. Hermione and Draco stared at each other. "Well, that was easy," he said with a soft chuckle.

It had been so long since Hermione had been able to spend any time with Draco. She offered him a smile. "I really have missed you," she told him.

He nodded. "I know," he replied.

He reached into his shirt and pulled out a long, silver necklace. Attached to the necklace was five golden forget-me-knots. Hanging from the necklace was a gold and platinum ring with a large emerald on it.

Hermione's eyes widened. "The Everlasting Soul," she whispered.

He looked at her curiously. "How did you know?"

"I read about it," she answered. "After you gave me the ring. The haunting story you told me made me curious. So, I looked it up. Julius Malfoy had been the original creator of the Everlasting Heart, the ring you gave me. Evalon Malfoy, Julius's wife, had made the Everlasting Soul, which is what you're holding. The two rings were a symbol of their undying love for one another."

He nodded. "Which would explain why Malfoys marry for love," he pointed out.

Hearing Draco say those words brought a hope to Hermione that she didn't realize she was lacking. They sat together for a while in a comfortable silence. Each was lost within their own thoughts.

Finally, Draco spoke up. "Today is my birthday," he whispered. He pointed to the clock, whose hands were directed to the number twelve. "As of right now, I am seventeen years old."

Hermione's eyes widened and she slapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry," she breathed. "I completely forgot!"

He smiled broadly. "It doesn't matter. I already have my gift from you."

Confused, she tilted her head curiously. "And what is that?" she asked.

"I have you," he said simply, causing her to blush. "Having you here to share my first moments of adulthood is the best birthday present I could ask for."

Not knowing what to say, Hermione just stared at him. Was he being serious? She thought Malfoys prided themselves on the monetary gifts they received.

"Of course, now that I'm an adult, you know what this means," he added. When she shook her head, he clarified, "We can legally get married."

Now she was even more perplexed. "Draco, I don't understand. We can't exactly walk down an aisle right now. Especially with everything..."

"I'm not talking about a ceremony, Hermione," he gently interrupted. "A ceremony is just a show. A way of celebrating a marriage. We can have a ceremony any time. The actual marriage itself is much more... informal."

"How do you propose we do that?" she asked, not sure if she liked where this conversation was going. She had a sinking feeling she knew what he would say next and she wasn't sure she was ready for it.

He gently took her hand into his and smiled when he saw the Heart on her finger. "Marriage between two people is much more complicated in the Wizarding World," he explained. "We do have ceremonies, yes. And grand ones, too. However, many wizards and witches are married long before the actual ceremony takes place."

He took his wand from his night table and conjured up a small stack of papers. "These are legal contracts of marriage," he told her. Again, he indicated the rings, "You know the magic these rings hold. I know you know, especially if you've researched them as you say. You already know that we are pretty much all ready married."

She took the papers from his hand and flipped through them. They detailed everything, including the genealogy of both herself and Draco. Everything that was required for marriage was there, except their signatures. "Don't we need a judge to sign these papers?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Under the circumstances, no. Actually, as long as we consummate the marriage, it doesn't really matter if we have a judge or not."

"Consummate..." There it was. There was the dreaded topic she knew was coming. She knew it was inevitable, but was she really ready?

He gazed at her, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She placed the papers on the bed. "I'm not sure I'm ready," she told him, honestly. "It's a really large step and I am sincerely scared. I've never... the most I've ever done with a guy is kiss. And that's been with you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you kiss Viktor Krum?" he inquired, bemused.

She glanced at him curiously. "Not really," she admitted, wondering where he got that idea from. "I mean, I kissed him on the cheek, but that was about it. We never went further than that."

She could tell he wanted to press that issue, but she wasn't sure why. What had given him the impression... then she remembered. She remembered that day at the bowling alley. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink in embarrassment. "Draco, I never meant..."

He laughed, "It's all right. I'm actually glad to know I've been you're only one," he told her. He threw her his typical Malfoy smirk, "It means I have no competition."

This made her laugh as well. Once they sobered up, she turned back to the topic at hand. "I just don't know if I'm ready for that step."

"There is one way we can find out," he offered.

In response to her unasked question, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Careful to place the papers on the nightstand, he took her into his arms and pulled her onto the bed.

The bed was awfully small. Smaller than the full-sized bed they had slept in at her parents' house. But, that didn't make much difference to either of them when he was atop her, kissing her with such passion.

She felt him glide his hands over her clothed body, slowly inching one hand under her shirt while slipping his knee between her legs. His warm hand upon her breast was all the clarification she needed. In that moment, she knew she was ready. She knew _they_ were ready.

Their kisses became harder, stronger. Each was suddenly burning with a passion neither knew they had. Her acceptance of their togetherness opened the floodgates to their passion. They tore at one another's clothes, not caring if buttons went flying or clothing ripped at the seams. They were magic users after all.

Soon, they lay together, he on top of her, completely naked. Both were breathing heavily as he began rubbing himself against her. "Draco, I'm scared," she whispered hoarsely, surprised to find that she had a voice.

"Don't be," he rasped seductively in her ear. "I'm right here. I promise, I won't hurt you."

She had heard that the first time a girl was with a guy it hurt. Every book she ever read on the subject had spoken of the pain, the blood. Not to mention, her mother had told her of her own first time experience.

Surprisingly, as Draco slowly entered her, Hermione felt very little pain. If anything, she felt the pressure, which caused her to gasp and dig her nails into his bare back. He filled her completely and then stopped there, allowing her to adjust to his size.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, concern filled his voice.

She nodded, not daring herself to answer with words. They stayed suspended in time for what seemed like hours, but was only mere moments before he slowly began thrusting into her. As his pace quickened, so did the ecstasy that flowed through them.

Somewhere, they heard the song of their souls singing the soft melody of enchantment:

"_Pectus pectoris quod animus , EGO dico super thee_

_Planto nos unus intemporaliter _

_Redimio nos una ut nunquam pro _

_Duos animus fio unus _

_Duos pectus pectoris fio universus _

_Pectus pectoris quod animus , permissum nos exsisto unus _

_Repleo nos gratanter _

_Servo nos universus _

_Nox noctis quod dies , nos may exsisto _

_Pectus pectoris quod animus , thesaurus nos intemporaliter"_

It was with this song that they found their highest fulfillment. "Draco!" Hermione cried out as she reached her peak.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Latin translates roughly into this:

Heart and soul, I call upon thee

Make us one eternally

Bind us together as never before

Two souls become one

Two hearts become whole

Heart and soul, let us be one

Fill us with joy

Keep us whole

Night and day, we may be

Heart and soul, treasure us eternally


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Thirteen

Hermione lay comfortably in Draco's arms. She absentmindedly traced circles in his pale, bare chest with her forefinger and sighed contently.

"Satisfied, darling?" he whispered gently in her hair.

She gazed up into his silver eyes and smiled. "I must admit, I am," she answered. "And what about you, Mr. Malfoy? Are you satisfied?"

He gave her his typical smirk. "Actually, I could have another go or two," he confessed. "Feel up to it, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Her heart missed a beat. "Mrs. Malfoy?" she breathed.

He rolled on top of her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. "That's right," he cooed. "You're a Malfoy now. Sounds good, doesn't it? Mrs. Malfoy."

A feeling of elation came upon her as she heard those words. She was a Malfoy. She was married! Married to a man she loved with every beat of her heart. And he was a man, too. He was a dashing, handsome man who had somehow managed to weave his way into her heart and soul. They were married.

At the moment, she didn't care how odd it sounded. Gone were her worries of what would come of this marriage. She simply basked in the glory of it.

She kissed him, letting him feel the love she felt for him. She wondered, briefly, how it could be. She knew wizards and witches married differently than Muggles. At least, that was what he told her. She hoped, however, that it wasn't _too_ different. She still wanted her ceremony. And her honeymoon...

As though he were reading her thoughts, he broke their kiss and rolled off of her. "So, Mrs. Malfoy, where would you like to go for our honeymoon?" he asked, holding her close to his body.

She giggled, "It's your birthday, you pick."

"Well, if that's the case, I say we go to the next Quidditch World Cup," he suggested.

She sat up and stared at him in disbelief. "Draco Malfoy! On our honeymoon?! I think not. You better..."

He laughed as he placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "I was only joking," he told her. "I wouldn't do that to you. The Quidditch World Cup will have to be a different vacation."

She rolled her eyes. Men and their sports! Deciding to forgive him, she cozied back up to him and sighed, "How about... Egypt? We could visit some of the old pyramids."

"How about not," he retorted, drawing a face. "Too hot and dry. With my skin, I'll burn like a roast on a spit... We could go to China."

"Or even Mexico," she tried.

"Cancun," he added.

She nodded pleasantly. "Cancun sounds wonderful," she agreed.

He sighed, "Too bad we can't go today."

"We can go after the war. After our ceremony," she offered. "We _are_ going to have a ceremony, aren't we?"

"Anything you wish, my dear," he replied. "I'll even let you plan the whole thing, right down to the napkins. Though, _I_ will choose my best mate. That's my one requirement."

She accepted without complaint. She was going to plan her own wedding ceremony! Sure, according to him, they were all ready married. But, she was happy to be able to have the ceremony. She had always wanted to be a blushing bride.

"Hermione, darling," he started, "I need to talk to you about something."

Worried, she sat up and glanced at him. Gone was the laughter she had seen only moments before on his face. He looked tired and forlorn. He sat up next to her and gazed into her honey coloured eyes. Taking her hands into his, he whispered, "I need some assurance from you."

"Assurance?" she questioned. "What kind of assurance?"

He sighed, "You are my wife now. You know that and understand that... I am very near completing my task. I want to know that... that after... I'll still have you."

She freed one hand to touch his cheek. "You not going to lose me, Draco," she promised.

"No, Hermione, listen," he stopped her. "You don't know what I've... done. What I'm doing. What I'm going to do... It's terrible."

His eyes filling with unshed tears, surprising Hermione with their sincerity. Harry had been right. Draco was horribly upset over something. "I'll forgive you," she tried cautiously. "It might be hard for me at first, but I will forgive you."

"You're willing to forgive me, yet you don't know what you are forgiving," he pointed out. "What if what I'm doing involves the death of someone important?"

She gasped. It took her a moment to respond. "Not Harry?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not Harry," he confirmed.

Had Harry been right all along? Who was Draco's target? "Voldemort is putting you up to this, isn't he?" she questioned. "He want you to kill..."

"Yes," he interrupted. "Yes. That's why it's important for you to succeed. What Potter did to me was an accident. We were dueling. I had started it. Don't continue being angry with him. He needs you, Hermione. _I_ need you. Help him through this war. It's the only way we'll be able to start our lives together.

"No, don't interrupt. Just listen. Once my task is finished and it's revealed to you what I've done, you'll be angry with me. I know this and understand it. I've done some pretty terrible things all ready and for that, I am deeply sorry.

"I can't express to you the amount of regret and guilt I feel. I can't ask for your forgiveness, because you don't know the depths of what you are forgiving. Nor will you know until my deed is done.

"I promise you, Hermione. I will do everything I can to make up for it. Once my parents are safe, I will work my damnedest to make up for it. Not just for them, but for you as well. I love you, Hermione Granger Malfoy."

Tears had fallen from his eyes, leaving small rivers on his cheeks. Hermione, too, had started crying. She didn't know half of what he was talking about, but she knew it wasn't good.

Myrtle appeared at that moment. Hermione kissed Draco gently on the lips. "I will be there for you in the end, no matter what," she promised as she and Myrtle left.

(II)

(II)

Hermione wondered momentarily if she had ever gone a day without crying. She shook her head at the ridiculous notion. Her mind raced through everything that had happened over the course of her final days at Hogwarts. Her last moment with Draco had seemed so brief. So sudden. Then, it seemed as if all of Hell had broken loose.

Harry had barged, unexpectedly, into the Common Room one night after his meeting with Dumbledore. He had given his eerie orders. Confused and terrified, Hermione and Ron had obeyed the moment Harry left.

Hermione had gone into the dungeons with Luna. Neither had know what was going on above them. Their job was to watch Snape's office. However, a panicked Flitwick had come running at top speed into the dungeons. Paying no mind to the two girls, he had gone into Snape's office. Moments later, Snape had emerged and informed the girls about Flitwick's fainting. Neither girls had thought to disobey his orders when he told them to care for the small professor.

It wasn't until later, much later, that Hermione had learned of what happened. It felt as if time had been set to a snail's pace as she listened to everyone's accounts on what had occurred. Death Eaters in Hogwarts. Dumbledore dead...

Shocked was an understatement for the emotions that coursed through her body. She didn't know what hurt worse. Dumbledore was gone. Snape, a trusted teacher, had been fully responsible for the headmaster's death. And Draco...

Her breath caught in her throat as tears poured down her face. She had to know how deeply involved Draco had been. Had to know if he had had any part in all of this. Harry said Draco had been on the tower. Harry would know.

It didn't take her long to find her friend. He was sitting on the stairwell outside their House. He looked tired and in desperate need of a Pepper Up Potion. "Harry?" she called weakly, drawing his attention. "I need to speak with you."

He nodded slowly, as if dazed. "I was wondering when you would show up. You want to know Malfoy's involvement."

She choked on her sob and stammered, "Y-yes."

He sighed, "_He_ was supposed to do it. He had been trying all year. I was right about the necklace and the mead. Malfoy had put Madam Rosemerta under the Imperius Curse. He used coins to send her messages, like we did last year in the D.A. That's where he got the idea from."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. It had been Draco all along? Draco had...

"Before you judge him, let me finish," Harry said, as if reading her thoughts. "That night in the bathroom will remain forever in my memory. He had been heartbroken, torn. It was as if someone had attempted to strip everything from him. And I'm sure Voldemort had. It is my firm belief that Voldemort was responsible for what happened this past summer. With Draco ending up hurt in your home.

"On the tower, Malfoy was shaken. He could not bring himself to complete the task, to commit murder. I think if we would've had more time, Dumbledore could have persuaded him. Dumbledore had offered him clemency and protection for him and his parents.

"Hermione, I don't think I will ever like Malfoy. To me, he will always symbolize the things I hate. But, I think there still might be a chance for him. He's not evil. There's good in him, Hermione. I saw it up there on the tower. He couldn't do it. Even when the Death Eaters came and started egging him on, he could not do it.

"I know you are heartbroken. In his attempts, he almost killed two people this year. One of those people was Ron. It was a brainless and stupid thing Malfoy did. But, I don't think he meant for anyone to get hurt.

"It's going to take time. We have to find these Horcruxes. And you have to forgive Malfoy. Dumbledore forgave him."

"And Dumbledore also trusted Snape," Hermione snapped. "Look where it got him."

Harry sighed. Hermione could tell he was trying to help her, but she did not want his help. She was hurt. She felt betrayed and heartbroken. How could Draco do this to her? Of all the people in the world, Hermione never expected him to harm those she held dear. After all, he loved her, didn't he?

He had told her he loved her. Had said the words several times. Did he even mean them? Or had he just been using her?

Hermione sank to the floor next to Harry. She allowed him to take her into his arms as she brought her knees up to her chest. She felt dirty and used. She cried as Harry held her, comforted her.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Yeah, I know. Depressing, short, and completely lacking in imagination and depth. Especially the last bit. I kinda glazed over Dumbledore's death and all that jazz. And no one knows what Draco was thinking up there on that tower. Smiles mischievously But, yeah. I have my reasons for leaving it like this.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Fourteen

It did not take long for Draco to return to Malfoy Manor. After the incident, he had simply Apparated outside school grounds.

He lay on his hunter green and black four poster bed. The Dark Lord and his followers were downstairs, rejoicing. Draco could hear the cold laughter and evil cheers as if he were part of the festivities. But, he was not. He was tired and filthy and wanted nothing more than to hide in his room until the people were gone.

He was also mortified. What had he done? Or, rather, what _hadn't_ he done? The entire year had been coloured with his horrendous deeds. Bell's incident with the necklace, Weasley being poisoned by the mead, both had almost died. Even then, knowing what he had done, Draco could not bring himself to do it.

He had been lucky. Neither the necklace nor the mead had actually killed anyone. His hands were free from blood.

He remembered Dumbledore's final words to him. Words of forgiveness, clemency, protection. "Stupid old git," Draco growled, wishing he could actually believe his own words.

Had Dumbledore been? Somehow, Draco had this sense that Dumbledore knew what he was talking about. "Doesn't matter anymore," he told himself as he sighed, kicking off his boots and drawing his satin sheets close to him. He was still fully clothed, but he didn't care.

Dumbledore was gone. And Draco's hands were still clean. Even more, the Dark Lord had decided to let Lucius out of Azkaban, as reward for Draco's cunning intelligence for finding a way to bring the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Draco's father was home.

Thus far, the Malfoys were safe. The Dark Lord had seemingly forgiven them for Lucius' mistake, though how long it would last, Draco was unsure. Either he or his father, maybe even his mother, were bound to screw up again.

Nevermind the fact that Aunt Bellatrix had offered Malfoy Manor to the Dark Lord to use as a sort of headquarters. Now, Death Eaters slithered in and out the manor like snakes. Any privacy the Malfoys wished to have would have to be sparse and few in-between.

Something warm touched Draco's chest causing him to jump in surprise. Then he remembered. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the silver chain. The golden forget-me-knots glistened in the firelight from his fireplace. But, it wasn't the chain that was warm.

The chain was holding a large ring. The Everlasting Soul. Draco's wedding ring. While the Heart, Hermione's ring, provided protection, the Soul would alert Draco if she were to come into danger. The hotter the ring became, the more danger she was in. If he worried about her, the ring would glow to let him know she was safe.

The forget-me-knots also served a purpose, one which Draco was certain Hermione did not know about. He had seen them in a shop in Diagon Alley when he and his mother had gone shopping last summer. While returning from Borgin & Burkes, he had stopped at the small boutique and bought them.

The forget-me-knots were designed to send messages to the pair of lovers. If they were happy, the forget-me-knots would stay close together. However, if one became angry with the other, or upset, the small flowers would separate. The flowers would then subtly remind the one hurt about the good things and the need for forgiveness.

Draco sighed as he held the ring and chain in his hands. He hadn't told Hermione about the purpose the forget-me-knots served. It wasn't because he had forgotten to mention it. He had just left it out.

He knew she would be angry with him, and she was. The small flowers were held in a sort of limbo as they desperately tried to get away from one another. If he had told her about them, she would probably have the chain off by now.

There was something else he had failed to mention. Though she now believed they were, in fact, married, that wasn't entirely true. Sure, they were, in all aspects, married, but it still wasn't completely official.

After she had left him in the hospital wing that night, he had pulled the sheets down. His bed had been covered with proof of their lovemaking. Proof of their consummation. He had taken one of the marriage papers and had placed it atop the red spot in his bed. The paper had, magically, soaked up the blood, leaving nothing on the sheets. Once he had placed the paper back atop the other papers, the blood had gone through all the papers, signing his and Hermione's names throughout the contract.

It wasn't exactly appropriate magic. Draco wasn't sure if it could be considered Dark, but it was definantly sneaky. Between their lovemaking and the spell on the papers, Draco had sealed their pact. She was his wife in just about every aspect. Save one.

Like she had assumed, they needed the ceremony. The ceremony would complete the pact and bind them together for eternity.

He knew then, as he knew now, she did not need to know this. Judging by the state of the flowers, he was certain. He would've caused far more damage if he had said something. As it was, she was probably still under the impression she could get out if she chose. He wanted to keep it that way. Let her believe whatever she wanted.

He had done things that he knew she would never forgive. He had almost caused the death of one of her best friends. Somehow, he knew Potter know about it. Had known since it happened. And if Potter knew, then Hermione knew.

Draco sneered, "Saintly Potter. Always sticking his nose where it does not belong. Probably doesn't even know the full story. Most likely gave her some half-ass lame story that would cause her to hate me forever."

As he wallowed in self-pity, a knock came from his door. He jumped, startled. Not thinking, he hastened to the door and opened it. His mother quickly stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her. Not allowing him to protest, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion, dear," she whispered breathlessly, letting him go. "I just had to get away. Your Aunt Bella is going to drive me mad! She actually thinks I enjoy hearing about her love affair with the Dark Lord."

Draco raised an eyebrow, straightening his clothes as he allowed her further entry to his room. He could never dismiss his mother. "The Dark Lord doesn't have love aff--"

"I don't mean literally, Draco," she interrupted, sitting in one of his chairs by the hearth. "Oh, Merlin, she's so frustrating..."

She gave a loud huff before relaxing. She looked over to her son and her eyes widened. "The Everlasting Soul," she observed.

Draco silently swore under his breath as he joined his mother. He took the armchair next to her and sighed. He had forgotten to stick the necklace back under his robes. He was tempted to ignore her observation or tell her not to worry about it.

Too late. She reached over and touched the necklace, letting the heavy ring fall into her hand. "It's warm... Draco, where is the Heart?"

He glared at her as he snatched the ring from her fingers. He hadn't meant to be harsh with his mother, but there were some things he wasn't quite ready to reveal to her. _Like the fact I had married a Muggle-born..._ "The Heart is safe," he told her vaguely.

"Safe? Does this mean... oh, Draco! You're getting married!" she exclaimed. Before he could protest, she threw herself into his embrace again and kissed him on the cheek. "So," she giggled, "who is she? Have I met her before? Wait until your father hears the news!"

"No!" he snapped, pushing her away. "Mum, you cannot tell Father. He cannot know yet."

She looked at him curiously, hurt fleeting across her pale blue eyes. "Why ever not? He'll be happy to see you've found the right girl."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Shuffling his feet slightly, he confessed, "Actually, Mother, I'm already married. We consummated on my birthday. She was all ready seventeen. I had given the ring to her on her birthday. You've met her before. You're... I don't think you'll like her too much."

Narcissa gasped, "Not Pansy Parkinson?!"

"Pug-faced slut Parkinson?" he snorted, disgusted. "I think not! She would bore me to death. No, the girl I chose is far more interesting. She's smart, beautiful, and has a laugh like an angel..."

"You love her," his mother commented. She hugged him again. "Oh, you must tell me who she is!"

He looked down at his ring. It was still warm, she was still safe. He shook his head. "I can't," he told her. "It's too soon. You'll know when the time is right, I promise. For now," he put the necklace back under his shirt, "you have to promise not to say anything. Not to anyone, especially Aunt Bella and Father. No one can know."

Narcissa gave her son a suspicious look. Then, to his relief, she conceded, "All right, son. I won't say a word. Just remember you won't be able to keep her a secret forever."

Draco nodded. "Don't worry, Mother. I have no intention of keeping her a secret forever."

(II)

(II)

Draco was horrified of the events that took place over the next few weeks. Every spare moment he had, he would use to check his ring. Relief would swell in him when he saw she was safe.

He wished desperately that he could be with her. He hated living in constant fear, constant unknowing. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her...

Tell her what exactly? There was no excuse for the things he had done, had set into motion. He did not deserve her forgiveness and knew better than to expect it.

The Dark Lord was rising. His minions were gathering around, taking orders from him. He used Draco's home as a base. Conducted meetings there in which Draco and his family were forced to be part of. Of course, during these meetings, the Dark Lord would not fail to point out the Malfoys fall from grace.

Draco was not a Death Eater. He hadn't made any sacrifices or done anything to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. At least, not really. The events when occurred during Draco's sixth school year, while they had caused Dumbledore's death, hadn't truly done much of anything else.

And Draco wasn't responsible for the headmaster's death. Snape was. Snape had killed Dumbledore, not Draco.

Draco had sat at the table as the Dark Lord went through the latest meeting. A woman was held upside-down, suspended in midair. Draco couldn't help but glance nervously at her periodically.

She looked familiar, but he prayed she was not. He had all ready witnessed the death of one person he knew. And he knew, whoever she was, this woman was going to die. He did not want to know her.

The Death Eaters went through their reports. Potter's name was mentioned several times, but Draco ignored it. It was always the same thing. Nothing new.

He was stunned to attention when the Dark Lord asked for Lucius' wand. He watched in agony as Lucius handed his wand over to the Dark Lord. A sickening feeling began to swirl within the depths of Draco's stomach. His father was being carelessly cast away.

He heard his Aunt Bella talking, boasting of hers and the Malfoys' loyalty to the Dark Lord. It was like listening to a love-sick girl proclaiming her undying love to a man who didn't care. Actually, as Draco thought about it, that's exactly what it was.

"Draco, will you baby-sit the pups?" the Dark Lord asked.

Horrified at being addressed by the Dark Lord, Draco cowered. He had no idea what the Dark Lord was talking about. He hadn't been paying much attention. His mother touched his hand in comfort, but Draco did not relax. Now more than ever, he wanted to escape to the sanctity of his room.

"Do you recognize this woman, Draco?" the Dark Lord inquired, indicating the woman that was suspended.

Draco could not bring himself to look at her any longer. He hastened a shake of his head to show he did not. Then, the Dark Lord told all gathered who she was.

Draco cringed. No wonder she looked familiar. Draco remembered seeing her at the staff's table at school. She was a teacher. A lively thing, too, if Draco remembered right. The few times he did notice her, she was chatting jubilantly with the other teachers.

Now, she would never do it again. To Draco's horror, he witnessed yet another murder.

(III)

(III)

Draco paced the length of his room. They were out there, going after Potter. Draco's ring was burning, scarring the tender flesh of his chest. Hermione was in danger, and he could do nothing.

"Darling, please calm down," his mother pleaded to him. She sat in the chair by his desk, confusion written on her face. "They are only after Potter. I wouldn't think you would have any interest..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," Draco snapped, callously. "As if I'd give a damn what happened to Potty!"

Lucius, who had also been in his son's room, jabbed Draco in the side with his cane. "Don't talk back to your mother," he scolded. "If you would stop pacing and sit down like a civilized person, she wouldn't draw such conclusions."

Draco couldn't sit. Sitting just made things worse. He wanted to do something. He wanted to see her again, to help her. The worry was driving him mad.

He carelessly raked a hand through his white-blond hair and prayed for the umpteenth time that she would be safe. "There's got to be something I can do," he said to himself, momentarily forgetting his parents were in the room with him.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What do you expect to do?" he inquired, curiously. "Do you intend to help the Dark Lord?"

Draco started. He stared at his father as if the man had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "Why on Earth would I wish to do that?" he asked, fear gripping him.

Narcissa stood up and walked to her son. She took his arm and pulled him into an embrace. Almost immediately, she pushed him away, shocked. Her eyebrows flared up as she placed a hand on her chest. "She's in danger," she hissed. "That's why you are worried."

"Who's in danger?" Lucius questioned, his face contorted in confusion.

Draco's entire body shook as he began to lose his nerve. He couldn't hide it from his father any longer. And it hadn't even been long since he had told his mother. Mere days, actually. "My wife, Father," he answered to Lucius' surprise. "She's out there tonight, I know. I don't know what's going on, don't know where she is. She could be injured, dying..."

Narcissa shook her head as she pulled her son into an embrace. Stroking his back, she assured him, "If she were either, your ring would turn cold... Cool for injured, frozen for death. She's in danger, yes. But, for the moment, she's okay."

This did not reassure Draco. He pulled out of her embrace and began pacing the length of his fireplace again. "That doesn't make it any easier. She's still in danger. There's still a chance she could..."

"Hold on," Lucius demanded. "When did you get married? Why wasn't I informed? Who's the girl?"

Draco shook his head. "Father, you know the magic. She wears the Heart. If I say her name, the protection spell on the Heart could falter, leaving her momentarily vulnerable. I can't speak her name until I'm certain she's safe. I refuse to speak it until I see her face again. I don't want to risk the Dark Lord finding out."

"You talk as though the Dark Lord would actually care who you marry," Narcissa snipped, sarcastically. She gave a short laugh. "As long as it's not some nasty little Mud..."

Narcissa stopped and stared at him in wide-eyed shock at Draco. He could tell that she knew. He stood straight and tall. He gave her a short nod to confirm her suspicion. Lucius had to grab his wife by the shoulders to prevent her from attacking their son.

"Let me go, Lucius!" she snarled. "I want to kill him!"

Lucius grabbed her wand before she had a chance and threw it away from them. "Narcissa, calm down," he ordered.

She struggled against his steel grip. "He's done it! He's turned traitor on us, Lucius," she cried. "He's... he's..."

She fell into a fit of tears. Lucius held her in his arms as she cried. He stared at his son, unasked questions floating in his gray eyes.

Draco knew his mother was crushed. To her, he had betrayed them all. Surprisingly, he was not ashamed. He couldn't bring himself to be ashamed. He was in love. He pointed his wand to the door and whispered, "_Muffliato!_"

He neither wanted nor needed anyone to hear their conversation by accident. He swept his want to his window and repeated the spell.

Lucius, still holding his sobbing wife, glared at his son. "Where did you learn that spell?" he asked.

Draco sighed, "She used it the night we..."

"Don't say it!" Narcissa hissed. "I will not hear it again!" Her red-rimmed eyes stared at Draco. "How?" she whispered, coughing. "How could you do this to us?"

"You talk like I did it intentionally," he snapped. He bent down and picked up her wand. No doubt, his father would soon learn who they were speaking of. Lucius would then try to make a grab for the wand himself. "You honestly think I would choose to fall into her lot? In case you've forgotten, she saved my life..."

Recognition dawned on Lucius' face, causing Draco to clamp his mouth shut. "Granger?" the older man questioned in disbelief. "That filthy little Mudblood who worships Potter?"

Draco glared at his father. "Don't call her that. She doesn't worship Potter. She just helps him. They're friends."

Draco could tell his father was struggling between absolute hatred and anguish. All colour, or what little remained, drained from the man's face.

Draco could see this was going no where. "Look," he explained, "when I lost my magic, she helped me. She took me in and cared for me. She didn't have to. No one forced it on her. I could've stayed at St. Mungo's. Instead, she placed the burden on herself.

"I thought it was over. My magic was gone, I was done. But, she had faith in me. She pushed and prodded. Everyday, she made sure I studied and learned new spells, though I could not perform them.

"More important, she taught me how to live. She took me out and opened my senses to the world around me. I'd never been as happy as I was when I was with her. Even now, she's the only thing that keeps me going."

If looks could kill, Draco would've been dead twice. Both of his parents were glaring at him in a mixture of anger and disgust. "We should disown you," his mother sneered at him. "I have never heard such filth come out of your mouth."

"Unfortunately, we can't disown him," Lucius told her, though Draco could tell the man agreed with his wife. "He is the last in line and you can no longer bare children. If we were to disown him, our blood would be dead."

"Is it not dead all ready?" she demanded. "That Mudblood holds the Heart. Our line has been spoiled with filth!"

Draco rolled his eyes. Apparently it had escaped them that Evalon Malfoy, one of the starters of the Malfoy line, was in fact Half-Blood. "Or enhanced," he pointed out, both to his own surprise and theirs.

"Enhanced?" Lucius spat. "Where in Hell did that idea come from?"

Draco sighed. Must he explain everything? He did not even know what he had meant. Then, it occurred to him. "Compared to her, we are idiots," he said. Before they could lash out, he explained, "Think about it.

"In my second year at Hogwarts, you, Father, made a huge mistake. You put that book in Ginny Weasley's cauldron and seriously angered the Dark Lord. Then, to further anger him, last year, you lost the prophecy.

"I've done my share of stupid things. All year I've been trying to kill Dumbledore. And I failed horrendously due to my own stupidity. In the process, I almost killed two innocent people who had nothing to do with it. Let me correct myself, I almost _accidentally_ killed two innocent people. Though, I wouldn't have been affected by their deaths, it was still sloppy and foolhardy of me."

He glanced at his parents. They were listening, even if they were still seething in anger. His mother had her arms folded across her chest. She was no longer being held by her husband. Lucius stood next to her, his hand resting on his cane.

Seeing that they weren't going to protest, Draco continued, "I did not think on it until later. During my second year, she had been put in the hospital. Before she had been Petrified, according to the rumours, she had attempted to take a potion and it backfired on her. Had given her whiskers and a furry face. It wasn't until much later that it dawned on me, she had attempted to take Polyjuice Potion.

"It was then I realized what had happened. Crabbe and Goyle had been acting strange. Their voices sounded a bit off. It wasn't Crabbe and Goyle, but Potter and Weasley. I don't know who was who, but they had tricked me, trying to discern information on the Heir of Slytherin.

"She had made that potion, yet she was only thirteen years old. Even though she is Muggle-born, she was able to perform a lot of spells before we even began our first year.

"When I had been with her last summer, she had impressed me with her knowledge on the Malfoy family. She did not have access to the Hogwarts library, yet she was able to figure out our roots."

"She had gone somewhere to look it up," Narcissa stated. "Any idiot could do that."

"And yet we don't," Draco observed, letting the insinuation slide effortlessly off his tongue. "But, there's more.

"She helped Potter during the Triwizard Tournament. She formed Dumbledore's Army. Thus far, no one has bested her in school. She's got the topmost marks. Higher than my own and I've been within the Wizarding World my entire life."

Lucius glowered at his son. "You are speaking of academics. Things you can find out in books, added with a bit of cleverness. You have yet to explain what a Mudblood can offer our family."

Draco knew his father was right. He heard the front door open, then slam shut. Quickly, he turned to his parents and whispered, "She's determined. When she decides on something, she's stubborn enough to see it to it's completion. Furthermore, she's not known to fail. She refuses to give up or back down. She and Potter plan on taking the Dark Lord. I have no doubt..."

A blood-curling scream rent the air, interrupting Draco. Ollivander, the wandmaker who had fashioned Draco's wand, was being tortured by the Dark Lord. From the sound of it, the Dark Lord was extremely angry.

Draco gave his parents a meaningful look. "...They will succeed," he finished as his ring finally stopped burning and remained warm.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah, I know. It's a bit rushed. Originally, this was separated into two chapters, but then I decided to combine them. I realize Narcissa _seemed_ more upset than Lucius, but you have to remember where we are in the story. Lucius doesn't have a wand. And, if you read closely, Draco has his mother's wand. Course, that doesn't mean Lucius couldn't have used his cane, but then again, is he really that stupid? Especially when his son is holding not one, but two wands?


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Fifteen

_Draco stared at the Dark Lord, appalled and terrified. The Dark Lord wanted Draco to harm a Death Eater for not capturing Potter._

_Shaking, Draco raised his wand and pointed it at the Death Eater. "_Crucio_," he said, without any feeling._

_"Come now, Draco," the Dark Lord chided. "Surely you can do better than that. He has insulted your lord by letting Potter and that filthy little Mudblood escape."_

_Draco shivered. Truth was, he was happy the girl had escaped, for reasons he dared not share with the Dark Lord. "_Crucio_." he tried again, with the same feeble results._

_The Dark Lord tsked. "You disappoint me, Draco. Much like your father has," he reprimanded. "My patience is wearing thin. Do it correctly, like I know you can, or Nagini will have two for supper."_

_Draco gulped. Then, his imagination took over as he pictured, not this pathetic Death Eater, but the Dark Lord lying on the ground. With a malicious smile, Draco pointed his wand at the Death Eater. "_Crucio!_"_

_The sound of the man's screams would forever echo in the deepest parts of Draco's nightmares. He cringed at the sound, disgusted with himself._

_The Dark Lord smiled as he placed a hand on the boy. He looked to the snake and nodded. "Dinner, Nagini."_

(II)

(II)

To say Draco hated the Dark Lord was an understatement. He loathed the bastard. Despised him with every fiber of the boy's being.

He had taken several showers, constantly trying to wash away the sound of the man's screams. Trying to wash away the images of Nagini feeding. The Dark Lord had made Draco watch. To watch the snake bite the man and, quite literally, suck him dry.

The Malfoys didn't get a chance to talk much anymore. After the failed attempt to capture Potter, the Dark Lord had begun thinking of another plan. Thankfully, this meant the Dark Lord had to leave days at a time.

Not that it did much good. Bellatrix had taken it upon herself to remain with her sister constantly, much to Draco's annoyance. He couldn't get a moment alone with his mother. And he dare not approach his father.

He knew they weren't happy with him. Without their consent, he had married a Mudblood. He had disgraced the family name and heritage. The blood, so pure once before, would now become tainted and dirty. Worse still, this Mudblood was none other than someone plotting the Dark Lord's downfall.

Of course, Draco could always hope that his parents would see this as a good thing. If she was plotting the Dark Lord's downfall, and succeeded, they would be free. The binds that chain them to the Dark Lord's service would be severed. The Malfoys could continue their lives in peace with the rest of the world.

But, that was just wishful thinking. Draco knew their silence was due to their hatred of tainted blood. His parents hated all Mudbloods, regardless of how smart they were. Or the salvation one could bring.

Draco sighed. He missed her so much. Course, he knew what she would say. _"Don't worry so much about it, Draco. I'm sure they'll come around. And if not, we can survive without them. They love you, though. They wouldn't abandon you."_

His sweet, naive Hermione. So innocent to the ways of the world. So innocent to the ways of his parents.

Imagining her voice made him long to actually hear it. Of course, longing to hear it made him long to see her face, to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her.

July had barely become a memory when the alarm sounded. "We found them!" Bellatrix cackled gleefully. "We found Harry Potter!"

Draco had not attended that batter either. But, it had been short-lived. Potter had managed to escape again.

The Soul had begun to burn more frequently. Draco knew that he would continue to burn until either Hermione or the Dark Lord was dead. From what he could gather, she had gone into hiding with Potter.

Unable to stand the burning sensation any longer, Draco had taken the ring and chain off, placing them in a pocket. He took them out every chance he got to check them.

"Draco, the Dark Lord has a job for you," his mother told him one day, standing in the doorway of his bedroom. "He wants you to go to Grimmauld Place."

He stared at her curiously. "What's at Grimmauld Place?"

Narcissa shrugged. "Harry Potter, I'm sure. He and... well, you know who I speak of, they keep saying the Dark Lord's name. Unfortunately, no one can see where they are hiding. He wants you to go there and watch it for a while. Give Yaxley a break."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. His mother was sending him to spy? On his own wife? "Is anyone near you?" he mouthed.

She looked down the hall in both directions before shaking her head. He reached for her, taking her hand. In a swift move, he pulled her into his room and shut the door. He quickly cast _Muffliato_ at the door and window.

When he turned to her, his voice was barely above a whisper, "I can't believe you expect me to do this. I thought I was done being his errand boy. I can't spy on her!"

"I'm not asking you to," she told him, her face twisted in fear. "Your father's wand is destroyed, Draco. There's no telling what else is going to happen to us. You have to obey him, for our sake."

Draco shook his head. "You're asking to much," he replied. "How can I be expected to choose between my family and my wife?"

"Listen," she hissed. She took his hand into hers and, bringing it up to her lips, kissed the back of it. "I've been thinking a lot about what you've said. About this girl. I don't know if I'll ever be able to complete accept her. She's a Mudblood. But, she saved your life. I don't know why you fell in her living room..."

"I had said her name," he said suddenly, realization dawning on him. Seeing his mother's puzzled look, he explained, "The Dark Lord had hit me with the Torture Curse several times. He would hit me, let me rest, then hit me again. He was punishing me for Father's mistake. The last reprieve he gave me, I thought of someplace safe. I thought of her. I don't know why, but I did.

"I couldn't move. I could hardly breathe. But, somehow, her name passed my lips. Then, I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was lying on her living room floor, covered in blood and glass... I would have died that night. I had lost so much blood."

Narcissa listened in horror. She hadn't been there when the Dark Lord had done this. Her sister had kept her away. She hadn't known what the Dark Lord was doing to her only child.

She nearly collapsed under the shudders that suddenly racked her frail body. Her son pulled her close and held her in a tight embrace as she cried. For so many years, so many years, she and her husband had loyally supported the Dark Lord. They had known he would one day thank them for their undying services. And now, after everything, he repaid them with cruelty.

She kissed her son on the cheek. Then, using him for support, she stood up straight and tried to correct herself. When she was once again under self control, she said, "Then you know what you have to do."

He looked at her curiously, not understanding. She smiled and explained, "Play the part. Go to Grimmauld Place. Watch over her and Potter. Keep the appearance that you are playing the Dark Lord's game. Your father and I shall, too. When the time is right, we'll break free of these chains in which we are bound... If you see her, if you get a chance to talk to her, tell her I said... thank you. She saved the life of my only son. I am forever in her debt."

Narcissa left the room fully composed and impossible to read. Draco hung back for a moment to reflect on what his mother had said to him. Then, finding a courage he did not know he had, Draco walked out with his back straight and his shoulders square.

(III)

(III)

Draco kept himself hooded when he was at Grimmauld Place. He had no desire for her to notice him there. That is, if she could see him.

He gazed curiously at the missing spot between Eleven and Thirteen. He knew where she was. She was there. Between those numbers. He could feel her presence almost as clearly as if she were right behind him. And yet, there was nothing there.

He couldn't remember a time he thought about her more. She was right there. He could almost see her grim face within the old brick.

He wanted to yank his dreadful mask off and shout out to her that he was there. To alert her to his presence. He wanted to hold her and assure her that everything would be all right.

"Draco, do you see anything?" the Death Eater he was with asked.

_Idiot_, Draco thought with a sneer. _Of course I don't see anything._ He didn't even bother with an answer.

"It's almost the start of term," the Death Eater commented. "Do you think they'll go to school this year?"

Again, more idiocy. Draco all ready knew the common sense answer to that question. Though he knew how much she would hate to miss school, she wasn't going. She would stay with Potter, helping him out in any way she could to complete the task they were handed.

However, the Death Eater's stupidity did not end. He prattled on, excitedly, "I sure hope they attend school. Can you imagine what the award would be if we caught them? How happy the Dark Lord would be?"

"I'd wager he'd be very pleased," Draco answered. Course, he thought to himself, _not that we would benefit much from it._

He was annoyed and tired. He knew she wasn't coming out. This Death Eater was getting on his nerves as well. Obviously he lacked common sense and respect for other people's property. More than once, Draco had to stop the stupid git from trampling on someone's garden or throwing rocks at someone's window.

Course, this would always lead to the man jeering at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a Muggle lover," the Death Eater would sneer.

Draco's nerves were being worn thin. Thankfully, two Death Eaters showed up around dusk to take their places. He cast one last, hopeful look at the missing spot before graciously leaving.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Sixteen

To the Malfoys' relief, the Dark Lord did not stay at the manor. They didn't know where he traveled and they didn't care. As long as he was away from them.

Unfortunately, for Draco, Bellatrix had decided to take it upon herself to get Draco prepared for the coming school year. "You'll be learning some of the Dark Arts this year, Draco. We, of course, expect nothing less than top marks," she had told him.

Draco lounged in an armchair in the drawing room one night after a brutal session with his aunt. "I don't even know why I'm going back," he complained to his parents. His aunt was currently not home, thankfully.

"You can't _not_ go, Draco," his mother told him. "Besides, with Snape as headmaster this year, I highly doubt you have much to worry about. And, you're Head Boy. Got to ensure you do everything right."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Head Boy?" he spat. "As if I care. I don't even know how I got such a title. Honestly, Mother..."

"Honestly nothing. You received the position because you make top grades in school, save for... well, _her_," she said, emphasizing the last word so he would know who she meant.

"You know she won't be there," he pointed out.

His mother nodded. "I wouldn't expect her to. It's too dangerous for her. Even if she weren't helping Potter, she's a Mudblood. From what I know, they aren't allowing _any_ Mudbloods into the school this year."

"And it's about time, too," Lucius said suddenly. "I'm surprised such mockery has lasted this long."

Draco had forgotten his father was in the room. His father had been pouring over the Daily Prophet for the past few days. Draco's eyes narrowed. "You're forgetting something, Father," he growled. "My wife is Muggle-born."

"I haven't forgotten," the older man said, non-chalant. "I just prefer not to speak of it. I stand by what I say. Mudbloods have no place going to that school."

Draco moved to stand and practically doubled over in pain. "Merlin! I hate that bloody woman!" he snarled, clutching his side.

His parents looked at him with concern. His mother rushed to him and placed a delicate hand on his side. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He gritted his teeth. "She's been adamant about teaching me the Dark Arts. It's driving me mad. I don't know if I can take much more. That bitch is a bloody demon."

"You will watch your tongue," Lucius said, calmly. He simply stared at his son.

Course, that was all Draco needed. The boy learned long ago to never cross his father when given _that_ look.

"That 'bitch', as you so lightly put it, is your aunt," his mother scolded. "You would do well to show her some respect."

"She fawns over him, Mother," Draco protested. "It's almost as if they were lovers in a one-sided affair. It's sickening. And, if I don't get a spell right, she punishes me."

Now his parents were concerned. "Punishes you how?" his father questioned.

Draco shrugged as he slowly stood up. "Depends on her mood. Mostly she just tortures me, but she's withheld food and sleep until I get it right."

Neither of his parents responded and Draco didn't expect them to. They all had to play a part. If his parents were to speak out against Bellatrix's treatment of Draco, suspicion would grow high. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

After a while, his mother asked, "Have you heard from her? Has she tried to contact you?"

He knew who she meant. It was the same girl who plagued his mind every waking and sleeping moment. Unconsciously, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring and chain. "It still burns, though not as badly," he told her. "I haven't heard from her. Haven't heard anything at all."

His mother looked worried, but it was his father who spoke, "I don't think she would attempt to contact you. It's too dangerous. Not only is she a Mudblood, but she's also an Undesirable. Everyone is looking for her and Potter. She would be a fool to seek you out."

Draco agreed, "And she's no fool. My best guess is she and Potter are in hiding together. They won't be found until they are ready."

"I'm surprised the Weasley kid isn't with them," Narcissa commented. "Can you imagine being sick all this time?"

Draco snorted, "Somehow, I doubt he's sick. I know my wife. Something tells me Weasley's with her and that his 'sickness' is a disguise of some sort."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure?"

"She wouldn't leave him," the boy explained. "And neither will Potter. Those three work together or not at all. Course, I don't know what good he's doing. Weasley's never done much to impress. At least Potter's fought the Dark Lord and my wife is smart. Weasley has only managed to play a good game of chess and a bit of Quidditch."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous, Draco," his mother chided. "Can't imagine why you would be jealous of Weasley."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Weasley fancies the Mudblood," he informed her. "Always has. At least from what I've heard and seen. And now, she's in his constant presence if what Draco says is true. He has a lot of time to attempt to win her."

Draco snorted, "Even worse, I think she knows what I've done. Or at least, some pathetic rendition of it. No doubt Potter's told her. Which will leave her vulnerable. Weasley's had his eye on her for as long as I've known them. No doubt he's using her anger at me to his advantage."

Narcissa sighed, "When are you men going to learn that women are not prizes to be won? Look at your chain, Draco. If she is still angry with you, she's doing a piss poor job of showing it. Besides," she added, with a confident smirk, "there is no contest. You've already claimed her heart and soul. The rings are proof of that."

Draco sighed, "But is it enough? It's not like we've made it completely official. She could already be deciding to return the ring to me."

Lucius sneered, "What do you expect when you put your family's future in the hands of a Mudblood? Ever since that bloody ball, I've been warning you about her. You claimed you had no interest in her. At least... what did you say? Ah, yes... 'Nothing but the normal hormonal charge of a teenage boy.' Amazing how quickly that changed."

"I doubt there was a boy in that room who did _not_ notice her," Draco spat. "You couldn't blame me for looking. She was beautiful, like the swans we have in our garden or the peacocks in our yard. Even other Slytherins had taken notice."

"And yet, they remembered she was a Mudblood, thereby unworthy of further recognition," Lucius shot back. "Only you remained smitten by her. Your words for her may have been filled with a venomous sneer, but your mother and I had seen right through your facade. You're lucky the Dark Lord hasn't taken notice yet."

"I don't speak of her to the Dark Lord," Draco commented. "At least, not in a light where he would question my loyalty to him. Play the part. Remember? Since I left her home last year, that's what I've been doing. As has she. We've played our parts, pretending to despise one another so we may complete the tasks set before us."

Narcissa waved her wand to see the time. She yawned slightly and whispered, "Bella should be home soon. Draco, I don't know what your young wife and her friends are going. Whatever it is, I hope they do it quickly and out of sight... for all our sakes."

Draco found he couldn't agree more.

(II)

(II)

Draco slammed his book bag on the table. "I swear! If I see one more person staring at me behind my back, I'm liable to hex them!" he growled.

He had been at school for almost a month. The whispers, the stares... Draco had always liked attention. But, not that kind. "I wonder if this is how Potter felt," he mused, then quickly dismissed the idea. He sneered, "Oh, not Saintly Potter. Everybody always liked Potter. He _never_ had to deal with this."

"Actually, if you remember our second year, when everyone thought he was Slytherin's heir, he had quite the horrible..."

The girl stopped when she saw Draco staring at her incredulously. He knew her from somewhere... Oh, right. She was the Head Girl, therefore, she shared the Head quarters with him. A Ravenclaw, if he remembered correctly. Course, he couldn't remember her name. She was small, with an obvious exotic heritage. She had long black hair and dark eyes.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

She seemed to hesitate. He didn't blame her. After all, it wasn't exactly common for Draco to ask people their names. "Padma," she answered, finally. "Padma Patil."

"And what do you know of Potter?" he questioned, trying to keep the malice from his voice.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Though she was still much guarded, she spoke with more confidence. "My sister is in his House. Or rather... was. In fact, she shared a room with Hermione Granger, who is, as you probably know, Harry's..."

"Friend," he finished. He was careful to keep his face unreadable. "Yes, I know her. But, that's not what I meant. You said something about our second year."

She nodded. "Yes. In our second year, many people believed Harry was the heir of Slytherin. I'm sure you heard the rumours. I don't think anyone really treated him with kindness, save perhaps Ron and Hermione. And then, in fifth year, no one believed him. Everybody thought he was lying about You-Know-Who."

"I'm not so sure about that. In case you've forgotten, he developed quite a band of followers. Dumbledore's Army," he commented.

She smiled brightly. "I was one of them," she giggled. "He was teaching us Defense Against the Dark..." She stopped again and stared at him with wide eyes.

So, Patil was scared of Draco as well? Somehow, this didn't surprise him. Was this how everyone would be treating him from now on? Annoyed, he snatched his backpack from the table and turned to go up to his room.

Before he stared up the stairwell, he turned back to the girl. "I hope Potter was a good teacher, Patil," he told her. "You and your friends will need every bit that he taught you and then some."

He left her to her thoughts.

(III)

(III)

The days slowly crept into months. Life at Hogwarts did not favour Draco in the least bit. He spent his days avoiding people. Crabbe and Goyle remained his "bodyguards," but that was about it. Most of the time, they kept to themselves or went off with Pansy.

Draco did not speak with Patil much after that night in their common room. And it wasn't from her lack of trying. Just about every night, she would await for him to come into the common room. Every time she greeted him and asked him how his day was. Every night he gave her a short reply before heading up to his room.

He just didn't wish for company. At least, nothing that she, or anyone in the school, could give him. He wanted his home, his parents. More importantly, he wanted _her_.

He was lying on his bed, turning the burning ring in his fingers, when he heard a knock at his door. "What do you want?" he growled, sticking the ring in a pocket in his robes.

Patil's voice floated from behind the door. "The headmaster wishes to see you. I was told to have you go to him immediately."

He grunted in annoyance. What on Earth could Snape want at this hour? It was really late.

Sitting up, he slipped on his shoes and headed for the door. He did not pause to thank Patil for the message. He simply walked passed her as though she wasn't there. He continued on down the corridors until he got to the large gargoyle that hid the headmaster's office.

"Elixir," he said to the gargoyle.

Grumbling, the gargoyle moved out of the way to reveal the staircase. Draco did not waste time climbing to the top and entering the office. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

Snape sat at his desk, reading what appeared to be the _Daily Prophet_. He glanced up from the newspaper. "Have a seat, Mr. Malfoy," he ordered.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. He waited with very little patience for the headmaster to speak. When he thought he was going to burst into a tirade, Snape spoke up, "You'll be happy to hear she was not caught."

This confused Draco. "Who?" he found himself asking.

Snape threw the newspaper at the boy. "Mrs. Malfoy," he answered. "She and Potter had gone to the Ministry, though I'm unclear as to why. However, they managed to escape safely."

Draco's eyes widened. Did Snape just say what Draco thought he said? "My mother..." he tried.

"I'm not speaking of your mother and you know it, Draco," Snape interrupted.

The boy was flabbergastered. How did he know? As if reading the boy's thoughts, Snape threw a folder at him. It was a manila folder. It was labeled "Malfoy, Hermione Granger."

Draco blinked several times, hardly able to keep his shock down. He flipped through the folder and saw it was her school records. The most recent records were a marriage license and a notice stating that she had dropped out.

He was unable to find words. He looked up at the headmaster and just stared. What would happen now? Snape was one of the Dark Lord's closest companions. If Snape knew about her, then that would mean that the Dark Lord...

"He does not know," Snape told him. "Nor shall he. I have no intention of telling him."

"Why?" Draco asked.

Snape stood up and walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against the desk and looked at the boy. "You are not the only one who's ever fallen in love," he informed him. "What I'm about to tell you is something you must never share with another soul. I tell you this because I know you have the power to keep your mind closed. Unlike Potter, you have mastered Occulmancy.

"Years ago, I had fallen in love with a girl. We were childhood friends. She was very beautiful, very smart. In fact, she was a lot like your Hermione. Course, her hair was much straighter and quite red. But, she was a beauty nonetheless."

"I didn't know you had had a wife," Draco remarked.

"I didn't," Snape replied. "I never got the chance to make her my own. In contrast to yourself, I waited too long. I hurt her pretty badly and she was unable to forgive me. In fact, she went on to marry another and they had a child. A boy."

Draco was intrigued. Snape had been in love? And apparently, he never stopped loving her. Draco could tell by the headmaster's words that Snape was still very much in love with her. "Why don't you tell her?" he asked.

Snape seemed distant. "I do. Every moment of my life, I tell her," he responded. "I try to show her, but I think I might have fallen short a few times. No... I _know_ I've fallen short several times. You see, I had made a promise to her to protect her son. To treat him as though he were my own. But... he looks too much like his father. It's hard..."

For a moment, Draco thought Snape was talking about him. After all, Draco fit much of that description. Then, something caught his attention. "You said she and... well, my wife, were much alike. Aside from book smarts and beauty, what else did they have in common?"

"Both were Muggle-born," Snape answered.

Draco nodded slowly. It did not bother him that Snape was not talking of his mother. Actually, Draco was quite relieved. Lucius was the jealous sort when it came to Narcissa. Besides, Narcissa loved Lucius very much. "So, who was she?"

"Her name was Lily Evans," Snape told the boy. As though he was realizing himself, Snape stood up and cleared his throat. "None of that matters anymore. Lily was murdered by the Dark Lord sixteen years ago. You wanted to know why I will not tell the Dark Lord about your marriage. It's simple. Mrs. Malfoy is helping Potter with something very important. I don't wish to interrupt that."

"You know what they're after," Draco stated. It was not a question.

Snape gave a single tilt of his head to confirm the boy's observation. "Had she returned here to Hogwarts, had she been able to, she would've been Head Girl. It was something Dumbledore had decided last summer, when you had ended up in her coffee table. Unfortunately, it was not able to come to pass. So, instead, I placed a girl with you whom I know you'll get along with. After all, Miss Patil was a friend of Mrs. Malfoy's. They weren't close friends, but friends nonetheless."

"Patil told me she had been part of Dumbledore's Army," Draco confided.

Snape nodded. "She was. During that time, she had grown to respect and admire both Potter and Mrs. Malfoy. She had even respected the Weasley clan. You could learn a lot from Miss Patil."

Draco nodded in agreement. He stood up and turned to leave. As he reached for the door, a thought occurred to him. "Lily Evans," he commented. "That wasn't always her name, was it? What was her married name?"

"Potter."

* * *

**Author's Note:** In the original, the one I have written down, Draco did not return to school. Instead, he was homeschooled by his Aunt Bellatrix. However, since I'm keeping alongside the actual novels, I realized that Draco would be in school during this time. (Key note would be in the chapter titled "Malfoy Manor," Narcissa states that Draco is home for his Easter holidays.) So, I changed it a bit and put him in school. Actually, this works out much better for what I have in mind. And yes, the entire story is already written on paper. I'm just typing what I wrote, adding and taking as I see fit.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Seventeen

That night, Draco dreamed of her. She was entering the Great Hall attached to Viktor Krum's arm. She was dazzling and beautiful. It was his favourite dream.

He watched as she waltzed around the dance floor. His own dance partner had long been forgotten. Actually, he had no dance partner. He was alone, dressed in his best attire. Pity him.

But, then, she glanced at him and smiled. She was as graceful as a swan as she swayed towards him, her own partner suddenly forgotten. Her eyes glittered as she gazed up at him, her periwinkle gown rippled along her feet. She was a princess. She was _his_ princess.

He bowed to her before offering her his hand. "May I have this dance?" he whispered huskily.

She graciously accepted as the waltz continued to play. Everything they did was in perfect unison with the music. The walls and the floor became stars and clouds. The sky was misty and garnered shades of purple, blue, and pink. The music, no longer being played with instruments, was within the soft breeze.

Then, the song changed. It became their song. The song that had caused him to fall in love with her. The soft Muggle tune beat with the rhythm of his heart and Draco felt as if the words were the words he was speaking in his mind. "I am... the luckiest man alive," he murmured in her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of lilac and forget-me-knots.

She pulled back ever so slightly and placed a feather-light kiss on his lips. "I have not forgotten my promise, darling," she assured him. "I know that is what has you troubled and I swear to you, we will be together again."

He caressed her jaw line with a gentle finger and smiled. "I shall not lose hope," he pledged. "I, too, remember my promise... It's a difficult road I travel, however..."

"You are not alone," she told him. He could see the concern in her eyes as she placed a confident hand upon his cheek. "I am here, in your heart, my love. I will always be here."

He nodded slowly in agreement. "My parents... they understand. They do not approve, but they know and understand. They have not given us away, but, instead, wish to help you. My mother wanted me to tell you she thanks you."

He didn't know why he was telling her these things. It was all just a dream... But, it felt so real. _She_ felt so real.

Her smile was soft and kind. "This is a dream, darling," she reminded him, as though talking to her fantasy Draco. "You and I are currently miles apart. There's no way..."

"If this is a dream, how come it feels so real?" he interrupted before bending down and kissing her.

If there was anything to prove the validity of the moment, it was their kiss. He was lost in her. She tasted so good, so real. She was there, and he knew it. They were together, for there was no way he could have conjured a kiss like this with his mind. It didn't matter how many times they had kissed in the past. This kiss was as original as the first.

When they broke apart, he could see the awe and confusion in her honey eyes. "How can this be so?" she questioned.

He smiled as he took out his ring. The large emerald glistened from an inner light. "We are united, heart and soul," he explained, though he wasn't quite sure of his words. "It's a magic older than any spell the Dark Lord can conjure up. And more powerful than he can imagine."

She nodded in slow understanding. "So, this is really happening? We are having this conversation? You're really here and dressed so handsomely? I'm really dressed in these beautiful robes?"

He nodded. "We are," he confirmed, though he did not know why.

Elated, she threw her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly. "Oh, my love, my darling, my Draco! I've missed you so much," she cried.

He chuckled as he tried, without effort, to pry her away. He failed miserably and gratefully returned the embrace. Having her in his arms after so long, after so much, felt incredible. "I suppose this means you are no longer angry with me?" he hoped.

She tilted her head back slightly in confusion. "Why would I be angry?"

He shrugged. "I hazard a guess that you learned of my involvement in the headmaster's death..."

She shook her head. "Harry told me everything," she told him, his worst fear realized. "He was on the tower that night, though you couldn't see him. He heard the entire conversation between you and Dumbledore. He related every detail to me."

He paled, his throat constricted. "And?" he gulped.

She smiled. "I thought it over and found him to be right. You didn't harm or kill anyone. At least, not seriously. There's good in you still, my love. I don't intend to give up on you," she confessed.

He breathed a sigh of relief and embraced her again. They danced slowly and peacefully for the rest of the night.

(II)

(II)

_In Wiltshire_

Narcissa sighed as she lay next to her husband. She knew he was still awake. The Malfoys rarely got any sleep anymore. Besides, he never fell asleep before her. "I worry about him," she whispered quietly.

Lucius gathering her in his arms and brought her hand to his chest. "He's a fool," he grumbled as he glanced down at her. "He never should have trusted that filth."

"I'm not going to disagree with you, darling, but it _is_ his choice to make," she pointed out, rubbing her cheek against his chest while clasping his hand. "I'm more concerned with this other path he's taking."

"What path?" he questioned, letting his fingers lightly make circles on her arm.

She answered, "With the Dark Lord. With Bella. Thank Merlin he's in school right now. I hate to think what sort of Dark Arts my insane sister would be teaching him otherwise."

"Any spells your sister teaches him will backfire," he assured her. "Our son is not a man to sit back in the shadows while his family is in danger. We may not like her, but that Mudblood is his wife. He's not going to abandon her. Not even for the Dark Lord."

"Do you believe he's changed sides?" she asked, a bit fearful. "If he tries to go up against the Dark Lord..."

"He's a fool, not an idiot," he interrupted her. "He's going to bide his time. He won't go against the Dark Lord until he knows he can do so safely. Especially when he worries for us as well."

Narcissa nodded and prayed her husband was right.

(III)

(III)

Draco awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. He had spent an entire night with her, just dancing. It was an incredible feeling, like he was still in the clouds. He half expected to wake and find her lying next to him in his bed. He was sorely disappointed.

Not letting that ruin his day, he got up and went to the bathroom. He showered, shaved, and dressed before going down to the Common Room. He did not feel like eating breakfast, so he decided to try to get in some studying before classes started.

Studying? He mused as he grabbed his book bag and pulled out his Potions book. A wide smile formed on his face as he thought of what he was doing. His wife would be very proud.

Unfortunately, he found himself reading the same line over and over again. He just couldn't get his mind off of her. She was so beautiful in his dream... his reality.

Curious, he pulled out his ring and examined it. The emerald shimmered in the firelight from the hearth. It also burned.

He shook his head. He hated that the ring burned. He wanted it to be warm. Just warm. To know that she was safe. He pulled out his chain and saw that the small flowers were perfectly content with one another, dancing along the chain as though they were happy. They were close together, which spoke of her happiness. She was no longer angry with him.

He felt elated at the thought. He knew he would be able to move forward with her now. She didn't hold Dumbledore's death against him! Nor did she hold the mead or the necklace.

"Is that the Everlasting Soul?" came a voice from behind, interrupting his thoughts.

He jumped at the sound and nearly dropped the ring. He glared at Patil. "That is none of your business!" he barked, annoyed at having been found.

She just shrugged. "I suppose you are old enough to have the ring now," she commented, coming to sit down in an armchair by the fireplace. She was dressed in her school clothes, like he was. "But, why just the one? Have you already given the Heart to someone else?"

"How do you know about the Heart?" he snapped, not at all friendly with her.

She rolled her eyes. "The Everlasting Heart and Soul? The two most prized heirlooms of the ancient Malfoy line. I don't think there's a girl in this school who wouldn't mind gaining the precious Heart," she commented. "Well, perhaps a Muggle-born. They really don't know about the rings, do they? But those of us who are from wizarding families, well, the Heart and Soul are legends to us. I never thought I'd gain the chance to see one."

Draco's eyes narrowed. To think she knew so much about the rings unnerved him. "It's none of your business who I've given the Heart to," he said, answering her earlier question.

"Not Pansy Parkinson, I hope?" she inquired, deliberately ignoring the fact that he did not wish to talk about it.

"What in bloody hell is it with people inquiring about Pansy Parkinson and me?" he demanded. "Just because I brought her to that damn ball does not mean we are an item. And I most certainly would not let her get her greedy paws on the Heart."

She nodded in satisfaction. "I'm pleased to hear you say that. Course, it still makes me wonder, if not Parkinson, then who?"

"As I've said, it's none of your business. Do you think I would tell some little Ravenclaw snip so she could go and tell the rest of the school? You're out of your bloody mind!" he growled.

She stood up and glared at him. She was mad. Good. Maybe she would leave him alone now. When she spoke, it was with contempt. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not like my twin. There's a reason why she is in Gryffindor and I'm in Ravenclaw. I do not take pleasure in spreading incessant gossip about people. Perhaps, Malfoy, before you judge a book by it's cover, you should try getting to know the text in question."

With that, she turned on her heel and left. Draco sat in the armchair, utterly bewildered. He didn't know she had a twin, but apparently she was quite annoyed with her sibling. But, could he really trust her?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just to let all of you know, I shall never write about Lucius in any other way save for a loving husband and a caring father. That is the way I view him and nothing that anyone can say will change that idea. The image of Lucius being anywhere near abusive to his son has only been protrayed in the movies. Therefore, if you wish to read about Lucius' abuse, you will have to read another fanfic.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Eighteen

November quickly turned into December, much to Draco's relief. He did not talk to Patil, preferring to stay away from her and the other students at Hogwarts. He was happy to be heading home for the Christmas holidays.

Seeing his parents alive and safe was all the encouragement he needed as he pulled his mother into an embrace. He had never missed her soft ivory scent as much as he had the past few months. He breathed her in deeply.

"She hasn't been found," Narcissa whispered in his ear.

He nodded in understanding, but said loudly, "I've missed you as well, Mother."

They ended their embrace and his Aunt Bella pulled him into another. Her embrace was short and strained. Almost as if she didn't really want to hug him. She smiled unconvincingly at him as she pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. "You have been missed by us all," she told him, though he could tell she was partially lying. She didn't miss him. "Snape's told us you've done admirably in school. And, we've got a special gift for you. One of your schoolmates is currently residing in the cellar. You should go and greet her."

Draco could tell a dismissal when he heard one. He paled. One of his schoolmates? He nodded his answer as he began to descend to the cellar. He mentally went through the list of schoolmates he had. But, he had no idea who it could be.

The cellar was dark and cold, much unlike the rest of the house. "Whoever is in there, back away from the door," he said loudly enough to be heard on the other side.

He pointed his wand to that door and it opened. He lit his wand as he stepped inside. He recognized Mr. Ollivander immediately. Though the man was pale and sickly, Draco would never forget the face of the man who made his wand. Nor forget the screams the man issued when the Dark Lord tortured him.

At first, Draco didn't recognize the girl. She wasn't as sickly as Mr. Ollivander, but she was pale and unfed. Her hair was unkempt and lusterless. However, when she spoke, Draco knew her immediately. "Hello, Draco. I don't suppose you've come to give us food? I'm all right, but Mr. Ollivander could use a little something to eat. He's awfully ill."

Even through the dirt and grime, the girl kept an ethereal sense about her. She was younger than Draco, he knew by about a year. She was strange, but held a certain odd beauty about her. She was, thankfully, much unaffected by the sudden changes the Fates had placed upon her. At least, for the moment.

"Lovegood," he acknowledged.

He ignored her request for food as he stepped out of the cellar and closed it. Though he sympathized, giving into her request at the moment would have been a disastrous mistake. He still had to play the part, like Snape and his parents did.

He returned to the sitting room, keeping his face devoid of emotion and making no comment. His aunt looked positively pleased about the circumstances as she went into detail about the changes made to the _Quibbler_. Potter's allies were slowly diminishing.

(II)

(II)

Later that night, when everyone was in bed and sound asleep, Draco crept silently through the house. He was careful to avoid every creak in the floor as he successfully snuck food into the cellar.

"Tell no one, Lovegood," he whispered as he handed her a small loaf of bread and a bowl of sweet meats. "If anyone were to find out..."

"I promise not to tell," she cut in, graciously accepting the food. "You are kind, Draco. Much unlike your aunt."

He gave her a half smile as he tried to feed Mr. Ollivander some soup. The old man took in a mouthful hungrily. "Be careful what you say," Draco warned the girl. "I won't always seem kind. I can't."

She nodded. "Have you seen Neville? I've been awfully worried about him and Ginny. We failed at getting the sword for Harry," she whispered, taking measured bites of her small meal.

He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen Longbottom. What the three of you did was foolhardy. You're lucky Snape was able to send you into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. The Carrow siblings are Death Eaters. You know this. All three of you know this. Snape had to work damn hard to convince them that the Forbidden Forest was worse for you then the Torture Curse."

"But the sword. Dumbledore wanted Harry to have it," she protested.

He shook his head. "I understand, Lovegood. Believe me, I do. But these are dangerous times. We aren't dealing with Umbridge anymore. We're dealing with Death Eaters now."

"And I'm a member of the D.A.," she argued. "Harry trained us, Draco. He trained us well. Remember? I've fought Death Eaters. Your father and several others, including your lunatic aunt. I know the risks I'm taking, but I'm willing to take them. I won't say I'm not afraid. If we don't fight, it's only going to get worse. Besides, we have something the Death Eaters don't have."

He looked at her curiously as Ollivander took the last drop of soup. "What's that?" Draco asked.

"We have Harry Potter."

(III)

(III)

Draco had not been comforted by Luna's haunting words. He silently applauded her for her undying faith, but he felt it somewhat hollow. Where was Potter?

He found that he couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning in bed. Every time he thought of Luna's words, he thought of Potter. Thinking of Potter made him think of Hermione. Where was she? Was she all right?

His mother had said no one had found her, but that did little to ease the turmoil in his heart. He remembered the dream he had had. She had reassured him in the dream that she would be okay. That didn't help him much either.

Finally finding he wasn't going to get any rest, he decided to get up. He had been wanting to ask his parents about the dream. The early morning hours was as good a time as any. Possibly the only time they would have.

He got up and put on his housecoat. It didn't take him long to tiptoe silently to his parents' bedroom. He had often times wandered to his parents' room in his youth after a particularly nasty dream.

He slipped soundlessly into their bedroom and gently shut the door. Even the door was silent. He whispered the Muffliato spell on the door to ensure they would not be disturbed and crept to the bed.

In the early morning, before the crow of the rooster, the room was painted black. However, this did not deter Draco. He knew where every bit of furniture was. He remembered his childhood nights of terror. He would find solace in the arms of his parents. His mother would whisper a Latin lullaby as his father held him protectively in his strong arms. All the while, both of his parents would assure him of his safety.

He did not need light to tell him what was in this room. Next to his own room, this room was one of his favourites in the manor. He was able to easily maneuver across the room without even a drop of light. He had done so countless times in the past.

As he approached the bed, he knelt down and gently touched his mother's cheek. "Mother?" he whispered.

Her reaction caused him to stumble backwards, losing his balance. She jumped into a sitting position and grabbed her wand. "_Lumos!_" she hissed.

"What is going on?" his father asked. "Narcissa, put that light..."

"Draco!" she snipped, her wandlight shining on her fallen son. She clutched her chest. "Son, that is _not_ the way to check my blood pressure. You nearly scared me to death. What are you doing in here?"

Draco got to his feet and dusted himself off. "I need to ask you a question," he told her, moving to sit on the bed.

Lucius sat up and raked a hand through his tussled hair. "Can't it wait, son?" he asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Draco shook his head. "I need to know now," he told them. "We might not get another chance to talk. I saw her not to long ago. She was there, in a dream."

His parents looked irritated. They were not morning people. "You woke us up to tell us about a dream?" Narcissa snapped. "Go back to bed!" She tried to worm her way back under the covers.

"No, it wasn't a dream," the boy insisted. "I mean, that's how it started, then it changed. She was there. Really there. I actually felt her, held her. She told me Potter had been on the tower the night Dumbledore died. She's not angry with me."

"What are you rambling on about?" Lucius sneered as he reached for his housecoat. Now that he was awake, the older man knew he wasn't going to get any more sleep. Especially if his prodigal son had anything to do with it.

Draco almost said it. Right as it went to slip off his tongue, he caught himself. Instead, he sputtered, "My wife! I think we are connected. Through the rings."

Lucius stared incredulously at his only child. "_Pectus pectoris quod animus_," he muttered under his breath. He straightened his throat and said with a sigh, "Of course you are connected."

Now the older man _did_ seem agitated. He got out of bed and, borrowing his wife's wand, began lighting the candles. "It's old magic. And it's not something that's been done in this family in centuries."

Once all the candles were lit, he returned the wand to his wife before going to his bookshelf. He was careful about the selection he made before he pulled out a very large, very old tome. He brushed the dust off the book and handed it to Draco. "When you are alone, away from everyone, especially your aunt and the Carrows, I want you to read that," Lucius instructed.

Draco accepted the heavy tome and nodded. He then followed his father to the hearth, which was now roaring with a cheery fire his mother had cast into it. There were three large, overstuffed black leather armchairs circling the fireplace. Lucius took the middle one, the largest, while his wife sat in the one to his left and his son sat in the one to his right.

This was another tradition Draco was quite fond of. Anytime his father wished to tell a story, either of the family's past or whatever, they would sit in these armchairs. The chairs were positioned in such a way that the three Malfoys were able to look at each other comfortably while still basking in the warmth of the hearth.

"Approximately five hundred years ago, there were four friends," Lucius began his tale. "Julius Malfoy, Patrick Potter, Jordan Smith, and the beautiful Evalon O'Reilly. At the age of eleven, the four friends were bound for Hogwarts, as you can well guess. Potter and Malfoy were purebloods. O'Reilly was a Half-Blood. However, Smith was a Mudblood.

"Julius ended up in Slytherin, obviously, while Potter and O'Reilly were set to Gryffindor and Smith in Hufflepuff. However, they did not let their separate Houses separate their friendships. They remained good friends throughout most of their time in Hogwarts.

"Now, Julius had fallen in love with O'Reilly. As I'm sure you don't know, O'Reilly's first name, Evalon, is derived from the word 'Avalon', which was supposedly King Arthur's final resting place."

"Who?" Draco asked, confused.

Lucius pointed to the book in Draco's hand. The teenager read the cover: _Le Morte D'Arthur_. He gave his father a quizzical glance, to which the older man sighed, "Read the book. There you'll find a most interesting account of the life of King Arthur. Our family has deep roots within those pages. I, myself, was named after a Roman emperor from that book."

Draco briefly remembered the conversation with Martha Jones. She had spoken of a Roman emperor named Lucius. Was the legend of Arthur a Muggle legend?

"Julius and Evalon had fallen in love," Lucius continued. "It wasn't a secret to anyone. He loved her so much that he was often found writing her love notes instead of paying attention in class.

"But there was another who loved her as well. Smith. And Smith believed that a pureblood should have no interest or rights with someone who has a Muggle parent.

"It was also common knowledge that many purebloods, like today, hated Mudbloods. Course, the feelings were mutual. The only reason Smith had liked Potter was because Potter protected him. Smith hated Julius, not just because of Julius' love for Evalon, but also because Julius was a wealthy pureblood.

"Smith had slowly poisoned Potter's mind of Julius. The two pureblood friends had slowly become enemies, for who would want to be friends with a Slytherin? Then, one night, all Hell broke loose. Evalon had come running into Julius' arms bloody and bruised. She had been raped. Angered, Julius demanded the name of her rapist and then chased down Smith. But, Smith had Potter's protection. Potter did not believe Julius' story.

"After that incident, Julius had forged the Everlasting Heart to protect Evalon. Evalon had, in turn, forged the Everlasting Soul, to alert Julius for when she was in danger. When they exchanged the rings, they spoke their love in words neither of them understood. The Heart and Soul united and formed a special bond that could only be broken with the end of true love. The rings also connected their souls to one another.

"Through this old and powerful magic, Julius and Evalon were able to communicate when they were apart. If something was bothering one or the other and they were separated, they could still come in contact with one another. They could go into a dreamlike state and they would become one.

"When Evalon passed the rings onto her son, she had explained to him about the powers of the rings. Unfortunately, he was never able to use the telepathic-like ability the rings possessed. Nor had any other Malfoy since. It became, as one would think, a fairytale."

Draco calmly took all of this in. What his father said made sense. Though, he hadn't asked for a story about the feud between the Malfoys and Potters, he understood the necessity of the story. He also began to realize there was more to his relationship with Hermione then he had expected.

"It's being repeated," he commented, to his parents' surprise. "Not entirely, but it still is. Slytherin is at war with Gryffindor. All the while, one of pureblood and one of Muggle blood have fallen in love. The rings have been exchanged. Heart and Soul have been melded into one. Potter and Malfoy are mixed into a feud that has nothing to do with them."

Narcissa gasped, "You don't think Weasley will..."

Draco shook his head. "Even if he wanted to, he can't. The ring protects her, remember?" he informed. "Besides, it's not in Weasley's nature."

He could tell his mother wished to comment, but thankfully she did not. Finally, he voiced the thoughts he knew his parents shared, "She's the one. She is Evalon, I believe. That's why the connection works. She's Evalon."

Lucius disagreed, "Evalon died centuries ago. Besides, she was Half-Blood. Your filthy little wife is a Mudblood."

"Don't call her filthy," Draco snapped. "There's nothing filthy about her. And I didn't mean she was physically Evalon. I meant spiritually, theoretically. She and Evalon have a lot in common. They are the same in virtually every way."

Again, Lucius argued, "Evalon was a beauty beyond measure. She was everything a man could want and more. Her smile alone could cause men's hearts to melt. She was a kind and patient mother. The only woman to ever bear a Malfoy a daughter. She grew up in a time when Half-Bloods and Mudbloods were scorned by most magic people. She fell in love with what should have been her enemy. She..."

"Is everything my wife has become," Draco finished quickly. "With the exception of children, my wife hasn't conceived any children yet. Everything else? You might as well say my wife's name in place of Evalon."

Tired of hearing her husband talk of a dead woman as if she were some well remembered lover, Narcissa broke in, "I agree with Draco. The circumstances are too similar. His wife is Evalon."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Nineteen

Draco returned to school soon after feeling horrible. He had had to endure watching Ollivander being tortured yet again. Bellatrix had tried to teach Draco the Cruciatus Curse, wanting him to practice on the prisoners. Thankfully, he had been unsuccessful.

He sat in the headmaster's office, trying to find some measure of peace amid the horrors that the war had all ready brought to him. Professor Snape was a refuge for the young man. The older man understood and sympathized with the young blond.

"I know what you are going through," Snape said to him. "Fearing for the life of one you love so dearly is taxing on the heart and soul. It's even worse when you don't even know where they are, whether they are safe or not."

Draco did not comment. He told Snape of Godric's Hollow. Though he did not speak Hermione's name, the headmaster knew who he spoke of. Thankfully, Potter had been able to see through Nagini's terrifying disguise. Both young adults had escaped with their lives.

Draco thanked Snape for the butterbeer and the company. Bidding the headmaster a fair night, the teenager made his way to his dormitories.

(II)

(II)

Draco did not go straight to bed. He knew Patil was sleeping. She always went to bed early and he didn't return until late that night.

He went to his room and, digging into his trunk, he pulled out a picture. Smiling to himself, he brought the picture to the Common Room and sat on the couch. Tears filled his eyes, but did not fall, as he watching the laughing girl in the picture.

It was a picture of _her_. She was in her beautiful periwinkle robes and she was laughing at something Krum had told her. She twirled coyly and smiled at the camera. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight of the Great Hall.

As he watched her, Draco felt his hand slip into his pocket and pull out his ring. The ring burned his fingers, but he did not care. Seeing her and holding the ring was all that mattered to him. He longed for her embrace, the touch of her soft lips. He longed to see her smile at him as she smiled at Krum in the picture.

"Is that Hermione Granger?" a voice questioned from behind him.

Draco jumped, nearly dropping the picture. He wheeled around to stare daggers at the offending snipe. Patil looked at him curiously before plucking the picture from his fingers.

"Give that back!" he demanded, making a grab for the photo.

She looked at the picture with a puzzled expression. "Why would _you_ have a picture of Hermione Granger?"

"That's none of your business! Now, give it back!" he shouted, jumping over the couch to make a grab for her.

She deftly stepped out of harm's way, still clutching the picture. "How did you get it? You didn't steal it, did you? Plan on using it to try to find her for your Lord?" she taunted.

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I didn't steal it, I bought it. Now, give it back," he tried to maintain calm, but he was failing miserably.

Why the hell was she up? She should've been in bed hours ago. She gave him a confused look. "Why would you buy it? Hermione means nothing to you."

"She means _everything _to me," he growled, stepping towards her.

Patil froze in shock. Seeing his opening, Draco quickly took advantage of her surprise and nicked the picture from her fingers. "Goodnight, Patil," he said as he made his way to his room.

"No, Draco! Wait!" she begged, running to stand between him and his door. At Draco's glare, she pleaded, "Talk to me, Draco. Why do you have Hermione's picture? Who gave it to you? I will not allow you or your Lord to harm her."

"I'm not going to harm her," he said, groaning in frustration. He just wanted to go to his room, get away from this pesky girl. He wanted to dream of his wife in peace. Throwing his hands up in defeat, for he knew the girl was stubborn, he went back to the couch.

He dropped into the emerald cushions of the couch and sighed, "You told me once that you are nothing like your sister. Can you keep a secret?"

Patil joined him, sitting in a royal blue armchair next to the couch. "Of course," she told him.

He nodded and began, "The night of the ball, there was this kid snapping pictures. Creevey, I think his name was. He took pictures of everyone and everything, including myself. I knew he had taken some of her as well. So, a few days later, I approached him in the hallway and asked him if he had actually taken a picture of her. When he confirmed, I offered him monetary exchange for the photograph."

"But, why?" she asked. She glanced down at his hand and saw he was holding the Soul. Realization clicked. "Hermione holds the Heart, doesn't she?"

He gave her a half smile. "Seems as though Ravenclaws really are intelligent after all," he commented. "Yes, she has the Heart. She has _my_ Heart."

Patil smiled. "You are a very lucky man, Draco," she told him.

He nodded. "You don't know how right you are."

(III)

(III)

So, Draco no longer had _just_ Snape to keep him company. His confession to Patil had been kept between her and him and he found himself with a new friend. A good friend, too. Apparently, Patil had known Hermione more than she had let on.

They would spend hours sitting in front of the fireplace reliving memories of Hermione. Patil found delight in hearing about Draco's adventures into the Muggle World.

Draco found solace in the girl's company. She wasn't Hermione, but she turned out to be a good, trustworthy friend. It was new to Draco, who had come to realize he had never had any _real_ friends, with the exception of Blaise Zabini. And even then, the friendship only went so far.

For the teenage boy, it was a nice change from the horrors he knew at home and in the corridors of the school. He still had an act to play, and he explained this to Patil. And, thankfully, she understood. She never approached him in the halls unless it related to business. She, like Draco, maintained a brazen attitude towards those she supposedly didn't like.

_Perhaps_, Draco thought as he climbed into bed a few nights before Easter holiday, _this year won't be so bad after all. All I need now is my wife._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Short chapter, I know. I'm sorry. But, it is essential to the plot. It'll especially be beneficial to the sequel that I'm planning on making. (Not saying that I _will_ make a sequel, but it definitely is something I'm thinking about.) 


	21. Chapter Twenty

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twenty

For the first time in a long time, Draco was happy at school. Not only had he managed to find solace in his headmaster's office, but his new friend, Padma, had turned out to be something of a trusted ally. It was a new feeling for the young Slytherin, who had never really known anyone he could truly trust who wasn't his family or his wife.

However, that wasn't the only good things happening at Hogwarts for Draco. Myrtle had started visiting him. And Blaise Zabini became a constant companion. Course, it wasn't nothing more than Draco expected. He and Zabini had been friends since infancy, their fathers' fortunes causing them to be in constant company. As for Myrtle, well, since last year, Draco had valued the ghost's friendship. He'd never forget what she had done for him and his wife.

(II)

(II)

Easter break rolled around a lot faster than Draco had expected. He was glad to be heading home. As much as he enjoyed being around his new friends, he missed his parents.

However, life at Malfoy Manor was hardly tolerable. While it was easy to fit into the role of dutiful pureblood, Draco hated every moment of it. Thankfully, Lovegood and Ollivander had kept his act of kindness secret.

It was hard for Draco. He hated pretending to be something he was not. His aunt pushed and pressured him to study his Dark Arts on Lovegood. And still, Draco could not do it. He was too scared. His heart was not in the Curse.

"Don't worry," his aunt assured him. "Once you've become a Death Eater, it'll come easier."

Those were not words he wished to hear.

(III)

(III)

And then, it happened. Draco was sitting in the drawing room with his parents when the Snatchers came. He had been whispering to his parents about his ring, which had suddenly become almost too hot to touch.

Hearing the door open, Narcissa got up to greet the people. She sounded happy... almost. "Draco, come here!" she called out to him.

His stomach twisted into knots as he obeyed. As he walked towards them, his mother decided to meet him halfway. She gave him a look that warned him to "play the part." The Snatchers had five prisoners.

Without even looking at them, Draco knew who three of them were. He kept his head bowed, not wishing for her to see his face. Not wishing to see her face. She had been caught.

He muttered replies of indifference to his mother's excited questions. He could tell his mother was acting, she was never that "excited" about anything. He could feel hot tears prickling his heated eyes and fought the urge to shed them.

His father joined the fray and soon was arguing with Greybeck over the find. Worse, Bellatrix entered the room. Draco tried to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

But,_she_ saw him. He could feel her honey eyes pleading with him, but he did not dare to look up. He couldn't. He only prayed she would understand.

He heard his aunt shriek about something. She ordered Draco to take the Stunned Snatchers out back. He readily accepted the small reprieve. His emotions were too overcome.

This had to be a dream. A nightmare. A horrible nightmare from which he would awake from. He heard her screams of pain and tears flowed freely from his eyes. Apparently the ring did _not_ protect against _that_ curse either.

It was a dream. Just a really bad dream. She was safe. Her ring would protect her. She was safe.

Her screams split through his skull like a knife through butter. He doubled over from the pain, clutching his head as he cried out softly. Falling to his hands and knees, his fingers dug into the earth for support. "Her... Hermione," he whispered, realizing only too late his words.

The pain intensified, causing him to become physically sick. Tears fells from his eyes in great waves. It couldn't be happening. This was too surreal. Not to her. Not to the woman he loved. Yet, her screams spoke differently. And worse, he couldn't do a damn thing.

Well, he could. He could pick himself up from the ground. He could march into that study, brandishing his wand. He could put an end to the woman who brought pain to his wife. He could... He could...

Draco had never felt more like a coward than he did at that moment. It wasn't that he feared Bellatrix. No. He didn't give a damn about that bitch. But, that woman had someone on her side. Someone who wouldn't be too happy if Draco ended the life of the most loyal servant. And, it was _that_ person that rendered Draco a coward.

With a strength he did not know he had, Draco pulled himself up. He wiped his tears and vanished the evidence of his sickness. Through a haze, he returned to the drawing room. Just as he entered, his father told him to fetch the goblin. Draco nodded and left the room again.

_"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything or I'll... I'll kill you!" _he heard himself saying to the cellar door.

As he returned to the room with the goblin, he watched everything move as if in slow motion. Many things happened at once and he did not even think about fighting when Potter and Weasley emerged into the drawing room. He just stood there and did nothing.

Then he saw the scuffle. He caught a glimpse of his wife as she struggled against Bellatrix. Saw wands fly away. Horror-struck at the idea of his aunt killing his wife, he moved quickly, as if his speed would save her.

He picked up the fallen wands and just stared, unbelieving. Dobby, his old house-elf, dropped the chandelier. Shards of crystal sprinkled his face and Draco doubled over in pain. He felt, rather than saw, Potter take the wands from his hands as more chaos ensued around him. At the last possible moment, he and Hermione made eye contact.

Nothing but hatred shown in her face and then, she was gone. She was gone.

And the Dark Lord had arrived.

(IV)

(IV)

Draco's world was turned upside down. His parents were under house arrest. His wand had been stolen by Potter. Hermione would never forgive him.

"Here, Draco," his mother said, handing him her own wand. "You need a wand for school."

Even now, the delicate forget-me-knots were straining to get away from one another. He almost feared they would snap under the pressure.

For some unknown reason, the Dark Lord had allowed Draco to return to school. Perhaps it was a cruel joke. Blaise didn't seem to want to talk to him. Even Snape seemed reluctant.

Draco sat before Snape's desk, his head bowed in shame. "I've lost her," he whispered. "She'll never forgive me for what I've done."

The headmaster did not respond at once. It was moments before he scathingly replied, "So, you've done it. You've managed to give your sacrifice to the Dark Lord. He'll be happy to place the Dark Mark on you now. Congratulations, Malfoy."

Draco did not miss the sarcasm dripping from Snape's lips. "What?!" the boy started. "What do you mean, my sacrifice? I've sacrificed_nothing_ for him!"

Snape fixed him with a cold stare. "But, you have. You've given up on her," he pointed out.

"No! I didn't! I..." Draco found himself at a loss for words. It was true. But, he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up. Not without a fight. "I refuse to lose her. What do I need to do?"

Snape simply shrugged. "Help Potter," he answered as though stating the obvious. "I know what Potter's after. He'll need to come back here, to Hogwarts. Fight on his side, Draco. It's not too late. If you do this, you'll be redeemed. Possibly even in her eyes."

Draco was shocked. "You've been on his side the whole time, haven't you?" he whispered.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "No," he said as he pulled a torn picture out of his robes. "I've been on _her_ side."

Draco just stared into the smiling face of Lily Evans Potter.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Another relatively short chapter. I'm so sorry. But, on a good note: only four more chapters and an epilogue. And no, I'm not telling you how it ends. I absolutely hate it when people mess up a perfectly good story by saying, "Oh, I always give _this_ kind of ending." So, you'll just have to wait and see. 


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twenty-One

Padma was sympathetic as she listened to Draco's story. She knew, from the countless hours talking with him, how much he loved Hermione. For him to have witnessed such a horrible thing... It was beyond her comprehension.

"I'm a coward," he said, at last.

She quickly shook her head. "No, Draco," she corrected him. "You are not a coward. It took a lot of courage to do what you have done. Most people would have crumpled, but you stood fast and strong."

"She hates me," he tried again, tears filling his gray eyes.

Padma sighed, "Perhaps at the moment she does, but I think that will fade. Especially if you follow Professor Snape's instructions."

"Help Potter?" he repeated, looking up at her. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that? I don't even know what Potter needs help with."

The young Ravenclaw shrugged. "Nor do I. But, I'm still going to help him," she told him. "In fact, I shant be around here much longer. It's too dangerous for my sister and me. Neville's found a good hiding spot..."

"Longbottom? Is he still here in the castle?" the Slytherin inquired.

She nodded. "But, please, don't tell anyone. It can't get around that he's still here. It's too dangerous."

"Who would I tell?" he asked, but agreed not to mention a word.

She was right. The castle _was_ starting to get more dangerous with each passing day. With a quick hug and a promise to see each other again, if they survived, Draco and Padma parted ways.

(II)

(II)

Blaise stared at his lifelong friend. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "I haven't a clue. But, are you sure about this?" he questioned, concerned for his friend's safety. "What I'm doing isn't exactly part of the Dark Lord's plan..."

The tall black boy shrugged. "There's a lot of things going on that aren't a part of the Dark Lord's plan," he responded, straightening his robes. "Besides, you aren't the only one who's significant other is at stake."

Draco looked at his friend curiously. He had been cautious in trusting Blaise, but somehow the fellow Slytherin had found out about Hermione. He had, gratefully, remained mute on the point. But, this was unexpected. Hesitantly, Draco inquired, "_You_ have a 'significant other'?"

Blaise snorted, "Don't sound so shocked, Malfoy. You aren't the only Slytherin allowed to fall head over heels for some girl. I want her to be safe, just as you want that Mud... your... wife to be safe."

The blond nodded. He knew his friend was still adjusting to the fact that he was married to a Muggle-born. It was quite a shock for the black boy when he found out. However, being a true friend, Blaise accepted Draco's decision. Course, he also made it a point to let Draco know how incredibly idiotic it was to tie one's family to a Mudblood.

Draco sighed, "If you're certain about helping me, then the path is clear. We have to help Potter."

"Help Potter? How?"

Draco shook his head. "No idea. Snape is under the impression that Potter will be returning to the school soon. Perhaps then, we could find a way to help him out. Other than that... Who knows?"

"What is he coming here for?" Blaise questioned.

Again, Draco had no answers. "I assume it has something to do with the mission Dumbledore gave him. My wife and Weasel are part of it, but she wouldn't tell me what it was. Actually, I told her not to. I don't want to know the mission until either it's over or right at the last minute."

The black boy nodded in understanding. "Smart move. We don't need to know anymore than we already know. After all, the D.A. knows about as much as we do. Which, in retrospect, is nothing."

"The D.A.? What do you know about the D.A.?"

Blaise just threw his friend a mischievous smile. "My girl is part of the D.A. She's actually a pretty proud member. You know her. You like her. She's actually a pretty good friend of yours."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. His two closest friends were... "Padma?"

Blaise just nodded.

(III)

(III)

Between Blaise and Draco, they were able to convince Crabbe and Goyle that remaining as Draco's "bodyguards" was beneficial. Though, Draco knew he was treading on thin ice. They hated him, but he no longer cared. They were cowards. Imputants.

He had felt her presence and was determined to seek her out. He placed a Disillusion Charm upon himself and followed the gorms. Then, he saw her. She was there. In the castle. She looked horrible, but he didn't care. To him, she was as beautiful as ever.

He listened to her and her two comrades talking about Horcruxes and a diadem. So, that was her job? That was why she had broken into the bank.

He didn't have a whole lot of time to fit all the pieces together. He followed them to the Room of Hidden Things. He was careful not to be touched nor touch anything.

_Help Potter_. The words of Snape echoed in Draco's mind. Though he did not know what Horcruxes nor diadems were, he hoped he would soon find out. Right now, he felt useless.

He heard Weasley talk about house elves. Something about their liberation, though Draco wasn't sure he had heard correctly. And then, it happened.

Draco almost broke his concentration. He could feel his blood instantly boil as he watched them. She,_ his _wife,_his_ love, had kissed Weasley. There was no mistaken it.

Then, as suddenly as his blood began to boil, Draco paled. She had kissed Weasley. The image sunk into his mind as shock and dismay overwhelmed him. She had chosen another. It was obvious. There was no denying it.

Hermione had moved on.


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hermione was gone. She had chosen another and had moved on with her life.

Draco could feel nothing but a hollow shell where he knew his heart had once been. He knew he deserved it. He had done so many horrible things since they got together... No, he had done so many horrible things since he had met her.

A tug on his arm brought him back to reality. "They've gone!" Goyle said as Crabbe yanked on Draco's sleeve. "They've gone into that room. Malfoy, you gotta get us in there!"

A resolve came over Draco. So, that was her choice. That was her decision. He would not give her up without a fight.

Getting into the room had not been difficult. Draco had done it countless times last year. He heard Potter's voice and followed it. He would continue with what Snape had said. He would help Potter retrieve these objects. Horcruxes, diadems, whatever they were.

But, first, he had to play the part. After all, Crabbe and Goyle were on either side of him.

"_Hold it, Potter,_" he called out, pointing his wand at Potter as the dark haired boy turned around. "_That's my wand you're holding, Potter._"

"_Not anymore,_" Potter jeered. "_Winners keepers, Malfoy. Who lent you theirs?_"

Draco was seething, but he responded, "_My mother_."

He stared at the face he hated. How was he supposed to help this boy? What was a diadem? He'd never heard of such a thing.

"_So, how come you three aren't with Voldemort?_" Potter asked, causing an involuntary shudder to go down Draco's back.

Draco knew Potter was trying to stall for time, so he paid little attention to Crabbe's answer. Instead, he searched the area with his eyes, trying to find the diadem. What did it look like? What had Potter been about to take?

"_So, how did you get in here?_" Potter questioned.

Draco scoffed, _"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year. I know how to get in._"

The sound of Weasley's voice made Draco's stomach turn. He wanted to hex the low life red-head. Crabbe had gotten there first, but Harry stopped the disaster.

_"No!"_ Draco shouted, grabbing Crabbe's arm before he could repeat the spell. _"If you wreck the room, you might bury this diadem thing."_ And risk Potter not finding it, he added silently to himself.

"_What's the matter?_" Crabbe snapped, wrenching his arm free. _"It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"_

Draco shot the dunderhead a scathing glare. He growled, "_Potter came in here to get it, so that must mean..._"

"_Must mean?_" Crabbe interrupted. Draco could tell he had finally lost his authority even before the imputant gorm snarled, "_Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished!"_

Several things happened at once. Weasley had spoken again. Potter had made a go at something. Crabbe threw a Cruciatus Curse at Potter. Draco knocked Crabbe's arm, causing the curse to miss Potter and hit a stone bust.

"_STOP!"_ Draco bellowed. "_The Dark Lord wants him alive..._"

Crabbe was sputtering nonsense, but Draco wasn't listening. He had glanced at Potter's frantic look and realization hit him. The bust! The bust had the diadem! Recalling his studies, Draco finally remembered where he had heard of a diadem. A diadem was a crown!

He pushed Crabbe out of the way in an effort to search for the diadem, not realizing he had inadvertently saved Crabbe from a Stunning Spell sent by Hermione. "_It's that Mudblood!"_ Crabbe cried. "Avada Kedavra!"

Draco had split seconds to react. NO!, he thought as he grabbed at Crabbe. But, Crabbe was shoving him away, knocking Draco's wand out of his hand. Draco made another grab at the brute.

"Don't kill her! _DON'T KILL HIM!_" he shouted at the gorm, recognizing his mistake. Thankfully, the overly large idiot was too slow to pick it up. However, a slight understanding flashed in Potter's eyes before the raven headed boy dove into a pile of rubble.

Damn! He hadn't meant to say "her." He hadn't meant for anyone to realize anything. Especially not Potter. Draco was pleased when Potter did not comment on his mistake. Hopefully, the boy had already forgotten it.

He saw Potter looking for the diadem. While the raven head looked for the crown, Draco focused on finding his wand. His mother's wand. _Help Potter. Help Potter._ How the bloody hell was he to help Potter without a wand?

As he searched desperately, all hell broke loose. Well, at first, Draco thought it was Hell. Crabbe had cast Fiendfyre. It was a spell they had just started learning. Amycus hadn't showed them how to dispel it yet. Crabbe really was an idiot.

There was nothing to be done. Draco knew he wouldn't find his mother's wand in all the chaos. He grabbed a Stunned Goyle and attempted to drag the brute out. Problem was, the exit had been blocked by the fire.

He saw a small tower of charred desks and stumbled to them. With a strength he did not know he possessed, Draco managed to climb upon the desks, pulling Goyle along with him.

He heard a terrible scream unlike any he had ever heard... No. He was wrong... He remembered _that_ scream all too well. It was the scream of the dying. He prayed desperately that that scream did not belong to his beloved.

Then, with a silent prayer of thanks to Merlin, he saw her again. His love. She was sitting on a broom behind Weasley. She was safe.

He saw Potter make a dive for him and raised an arm. Even as he touched Potter's hand, Draco knew his own hand was too slippery. He was bathed in sweat from the heat of the fire.

He watched as Hermione and Weasley struggled to get Goyle on their broomstick. As he did his best to help them, Draco tried to catch Hermione's eye. But, she refused to look at him. When they departed, he climbed up behind Potter.

"_The door, get to the door, the door!_" he shouted urgently. Now that she was safe, he focused on his own safety. He did not care whether his voice was a bit higher than normal.

Relief began to flood through him as they followed Hermione. Then, Potter suddenly turned. "_What are you doing! What are you doing! The door's this way!" _he hollered, tugging at Potter's sleeve and not understanding.

Then, he saw the diadem. He made no more protests as Potter retrieved the tiara. Though he did not know it's importance, Draco knew Potter needed it. _Help Potter_.

But, he couldn't. Not wandless as he was. He screamed when a flame attempted to uproot him and Potter. He did not realize how tightly he held on.

Finally, they were safe. Draco collapsed facedown onto the cool floor next to Goyle. As he expelled smoke from his lungs, he retched. He knew what had occurred even as he heard himself choke, "_C-Crabbe... C-Crabbe..."_

"_He's dead,_" Weasley snapped coldly, finalizing the blow.

Draco did not respond. Memories of Crabbe flashed through his mind. He had known the foolish behemoth almost his entire life. They had played together as toddlers. Crabbe had been his friend... No, he corrected himself. For the first time in his life, he realized Crabbe was never his friend. A minion, perhaps. A bodyguard even. But, never a friend.

It was then Draco understood what real friends were. Real friends, like the Golden Trio, like his wife, did not care how much money you made or how popular you were. They were just your friend. They cared about you regardless of how well connected you were or who your father was. Real friends.

Draco had real friends. He had found true friendship in the woman he loved. Hermione. He had found real friendship in his co-Head, Padma. He had found real friendship in Blaise. They were his true friends. Not the swine who perished in the flames created by his own foolishness.

He listened as she spoke, taking in every syllable. He wanted to remember her voice. Wanted to plaster it into his heart. It was hopeless for him. She had shunned him. And, to make matters worse, he had no way of aiding her or Potter. He was pathetic. Decrepit.

Not even the loud explosion could interrupt Draco's thoughts. His mother's wand. How could he had lost something so precious? How was he to repay her for it?

His parents had always been there for him. Sacrificing their own happiness to give him whatever he wanted. They had never asked much of him. Just, make top grades in school. Marry someone fitting for the Malfoy title. Produce a grandchild or two.

Potter had stolen Draco's wand... Draco's wand...

Draco got up, abandoning Goyle. He saw Hermione and her friends as they departed. The body of a Weasley lay dead among the rubble. He did not take the time to think about which Weasley it was. Something else crept into his mind.

"Don't worry, darling," Draco whispered to the path Hermione had vanished from. "There's still time."

Draco would not lose hope. He pulled out his ring and placed it on his finger. It burned, but he ignored the pain. He paid no mind to those around him. He was useless without a wand. He planned on remedying that problem.

_"Winners keepers, Malfoy," _ he remembered Potter saying.

He just had to figure out how to win one. He couldn't grab one off the ground. Those never worked properly. He needed to take one from someone's hand.

He found a likely candidate in the form of a Death Eater. The Dead Eaters didn't need their wands, he surmised. He approached the black robe from behind. "Hey!" he barked, his hand balled into a fist, ready to strike.

Suddenly Draco couldn't move. The Death Eater turned on him and gave him a toothless grin. The man had frozen Draco and the boy could feel the panic start to well in the pit of his stomach.

_"I'm Draco Malfoy,_" he pleaded, scared, but at the same time trying to use the man's knowledge of the Malfoys to his advantage. "_I'm Draco, I'm on your side!_"

The Death Eater crumpled and Draco felt his body relax. Someone had stunned the man. Looking around for his saviour, Draco was surprised when he felt an invisible fist come into contact with his face. Stunned, Draco fell to the floor.

"_And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!"_ yelled a voice that took Draco a few moments to recognize as Weasley's.

Draco gave a tight lipped smile. He didn't care what Weasley called him. He deserved it. He plucked the wand from the Death Eater's slackened grip. A mischievous smile crept upon Draco's face as he wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.

_Help Potter._ That's exactly what Draco intended to do.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The quotes in itallics are taken from the actual book. I decided not to change what was actually said. In fact, in the next chapter, you'll find more things that were actually said in the books, including Voldemort's speeches. But, I will give credit in that chapter. 


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twenty-Three

That night, as the battle wore on, Draco recalled Dumbledore's words. "_You are not a killer, Draco... To the innocent, killing always seems easier than it truly is."_

That night, Draco learned there were different types of killing. He had wanted to kill Dumbledore in cold blood. To end the life of the man who had provided Draco with a place to learn. Draco had found he couldn't do it. Dumbledore was an innocent. Dumbledore hadn't raised his wand to Draco. In fact, Dumbledore had been wandless.

Draco walked through the corridors of the school which had once been a second home to him. Was _still_ a second home to him. He hadn't realized how much he loved Hogwarts until he saw the carnage the school was fast becoming. Death Eaters, schoolmates, friends, enemies... bodies littered Draco's path like leaves in autumn.

Draco hated what was happening. His beloved school was becoming a mass graveyard. People he had once viewed as enemies were now dying for a cause they truly believed in... And Draco found... he was beginning to believe in it too.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he growled, pointing his wand at a ruthless Death Eater.

The Death Eater's lifeless body fell to the ground to reveal a shocked Seamus Finnigan. "Malfoy?" he questioned, confused.

Draco scoffed, "Pay attention, Finnigan! He almost got you."

"T-Thanks," Finnigan stammered, completely bewildered.

"Have you seen Her... Granger?" Draco asked, stopping himself from saying her first name.

The Gryffindor pointed to a corridor. "Last I saw, she was in the Great Hall with the Weasley's. Fred Weasley's dead."

Draco nodded and muttered a thanks as he pushed past the boy. He already knew about Fred Weasley. He had witnessed the dead... sort of. Now, he needed to know if she...

_"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery."_

Draco snorted to himself. Value bravery? Yeah, right!

_"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste._

_"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retract immediately."_

Draco looked around and was surprised to see the Death Eaters do just that. He could feel a trick as a sneer crept upon Draco's face. He knew better.

_"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured._

_"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."_

It was a game, Draco knew. A slow, horrific game. The Dark Lord was toying with these people. Wanted them to think they were safe.

Draco did not count himself among those in the castle fighting, thought he fought along their side. His father was a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's inner circle. Though the Malfoys had been shamed, Draco doubted the Dark Lord would question his loyalty.

He entered the Great Hall and began looking for her. This was where Finnigan said she'd be. He saw the Weasleys, but no sign of...

And there she was. Standing next to the young Weasley girl ---what was her name? Ginny? --- Hermione held her. Both girls looked as though they were weeping. Draco knew they were.

He knew he shouldn't approach the family. The last place he needed to be was among the Weasleys. Especially when they were grieving. But, his legs moved without his permission.

For a reason unbeknownst to him, Draco's heard wrenched at the sight of Mrs. Weasley crying over her son. He thought of his own mother and the heart ache she would feel if anything ever happened to him. He had never witnessed such sadness. A parent should never have to bury their child.

He stood a few paces behind Ron Weasley and bowed his head solemnly. He quietly whispered a Latin prayer for Fred. Then, loud enough for Ron Weasley to hear, he whispered, "I am sorry for your loss."

Apparently, Ron hadn't been the only one to hear him. All of them, save the mother, wheeled on him. Stares of surprise turned to glares as they realized who had spoken.

"Bet you are sorry," Ron Weasley snipped. "Sorry you couldn't do it yourself."

"Ronald!" Hermione reprimanded as she went to stand before Draco, stopping the Weasley from a well-aimed punch.

Draco's heart sank even more when he saw her. There was no love in her eyes. No _"I miss you"_ on her face. She was dirty, ragged, and tear-streaked. Worse, the look in her eyes bordered on hatred as she stared up at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she demanded. "Can't you see this family's suffered enough?"

He pulled out his wand, noticing as he did so, the Weasleys had pulled out theirs. Instead of pointing it at her, he turned it so it pointed at him and handed it to her.

"I mean no harm," he told her. He could feel the tears threaten to fall, but he refused to let them. "I am genuinely sorry... for everything. You know me, Hermione. You know me more than anyone else ever could. Everything I've done has been for you and my family. For us. You know this. You have known this since the moment we shared our first kiss."

He pulled back his sleeves and revealed his bare arms, arms that were clean and unmarred. "I have kept my promise to you, my darling. I have not shed innocent blood. I've made no sacrifices to the Dark Lord.

"That does not mean I am completely clean. Last year, I attempted to take the life of a man who has done nothing more than try to run a decent school. I did this to safe both my own life and the lives of my parents. However, I unfortunately put Bell and Weasley at risk. I had not intended to do so, but I will not deny I almost killed them."

He glanced at Mr. Weasley. "I am sorry, truly. I do not think words can express my guilt for this deed."

He turned back to Hermione, focusing on her with his warm, gray eyes. "I could not protect you from my Aunt Bellatrix. I'm sorry, my love. I wanted to so badly. Merlin knows how much it tore me apart to hear you scream. I couldn't bare to even look at you for fear I might break. I hope you realize why I did not come to your aid. Why I made no move.

"Tonight, you, Potter, and Weasley saved my life. Not once, but twice... Yes, Weasley, I recognized your voice, though you were hidden." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Tonight, I took a man's life with that wand. This man, a Death Eater, had been a family friend. He threatened the life of one of our schoolmates, Finnigan. I... I acted on instinct."

He gazed up into her honey eyes. He knew his own eyes glistened with unshed tears, but hers were bloodshot. Streams of tears drenched her face making him feel wretched. How many times had he made her cry? He hated seeing her cry.

"I can't ask for your forgiveness, Hermione," he continued, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed, "I know what I've done. Those things can never be forgiven. But, one thing has remained the same.

"I... I love you, Hermione. More now then I ever have. Life without you has been... _will_ be Hell. But, I know I must pay for my actions."

Though she was still crying, she sniffed, "What... What are you talking about?"

He bowed his head again. "I saw you kiss Weasley," he confessed. "Outside the Room of Hidden Things. And... I'm happy for you. For both of you. I could not think of a more deserving man."

This time he glanced at a rather shocked Ron Weasley. "Treat her..." now the words came harder for Draco. He straightened his throat. He hated giving her up. "Treat her well, Weasley. Do for her as I have not done. Don't be foolish as I have. Love her and show her that love every moment of your life. She deserves no less."

_"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."_

Draco froze, his eyes wide with shock as he looked at a terrified Hermione. In fact, everyone had frozen.

_"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."_

Draco and Hermione stared in shock at one another for a brief moment. Harry Potter was dead!

Then, as though a spell had been lifted, everyone moved as one onto the grounds. Draco allowed himself to be pushed back. He did not wish to see. Did not wish to know.

_Help Potter_.

Draco had failed.

He heard a scream of despair he had not recognized. As he stepped out onto the grounds, he saw Professor McGonagall nearly fall into pieces. He heard Hermione's scream of disbelief and had to stop himself from running to her to comfort her. It was all over. Potter's lifeless body lay at the Dark Lord's feet.

And still, Longbottom resisted. Draco shook his head. Only sheer idiocy could keep Longbottom going. At least, that was Draco's opinion. He watched as the Dark Lord made a mockery of the school and the people within it. It angered Draco, for he had fallen in love with the very foundation of this school. He cared about the people it held within it's walls. He watched as Longbottom was engulfed in flame.

Perhaps it was because he was so far back. Or perhaps it was because he seemed to be the only one paying attention to his surroundings. But, Draco turned slowly as he heard what he had first thought was thunder. No. It wasn't thunder. It was hooves. Many, many hooves. And something else.

Draco's eyes widened as he saw the large giant and the many people swarming from the castle. Centaurs, house elves, and winged creatures came as well.

Draco's lips tightened in a mischievous smirk. He had been marvelously wrong. The battle was not over! Harry Potter would not die in vain!

He followed the people and creatures into the fray. He fought Death Eaters with a malice he did not know he possessed. He knew he stood a chance of dying, but he was going to take as many of the foul monsters down with him as possible.

"Draco!" came a call that stopped him as he finished off yet another Death Eater.

Draco turned on his heel to find Goyle standing before him. "What in bloody hell are you doing?" Goyle asked. "You're fighting the wrong people!"

Draco shook his head. "No, Gregory. For once, I'm fighting the _right_ people."

Goyle's eyes widened as the words sank in. "You've turned traitor," he whispered in disbelief. Then, his face reddened in rage as he bellowed, "Then you'll die!"

Draco moved completely on instinct. He dodged Goyle's curse and waved his own wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_" he shouted.

Draco watched, as if he were watching a nightmare, as his friend fell back, dead before his body hit the ground. Ignoring all pretenses, Draco fell to his knees beside the body of the boy he grew up with. Tears slid unchecked from his pale gray eyes.

"You'll pay for that, boy!" hissed a voice Draco had known his whole life.

Draco slowly stood up, clutching his wand. He pivoted on his heel and faced Goyle's father. "I'm not afraid," he told the man.

Thankfully, he did not have to fight the older man. A large tree branch hit the man in the back of the head. Draco watched in wonder as the stunned man fell to the ground. A broad smile crossed his face as Draco stared into the desperate eyes of his own father. Lucius had saved his son's life.

"Draco!" his mother cried rushing to him and pulling him into a hug.

Draco kissed his mother on the cheek and thanked his father. Then, asking their forgiveness, he dashed off into the castle. He knew where Hermione would be. And he was right. She was in the Great Hall with Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, fighting for her life. Bellatrix Lestrange was sending them curse after curse.

He saw a flash of green and his eyes widened in horror. NO!

_"NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!"_

Draco watched in fascination as Molly Weasley took on Bellatrix Lestrange. He had never seen the fiery haired woman act in such a way. He was almost reminded of the dragons at the Triwizard Tournament three years ago.

He almost felt sorrow when his aunt was fatally cursed. Almost. There was no real love loss between Draco and his aunt. But, it was still a loss for him, however meager.

_"Protego!"_

Draco looked up to see a very much alive Harry Potter brandishing his wand. Draco remained, like everyone else, quiet throughout the exchange between Potter and Voldemort. He knew _this_ was what the entire battle was about. It was like watching two dragons survey one another before attacking.

Draco didn't really listen to much of the actual conversation. He didn't really understand it. However, he did hear the part about Snape.

"_Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother..._

_"Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"_

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped slightly. He turned his head and saw his parents standing behind him. His mother was the one who had touched him. He placed his hand over hers and turned his attention back to the scene.

_"I killed Severus Snape three hours ago..._"

Snape was dead? This affected Draco more than he cared to admit. He heard the hitch in his mother's throat and felt her hand slip from his shoulder. A glance out the corner of his eye told him she was being held by his father. She was crying.

Snape had been a friend. One of the very few real friends Draco had had throughout school. Knowing the man was dead caused Draco to grieve for his loss, but the boy refrained from shedding tears. There would be time for tears later.

Snape had also been a family friend. Lucius' best friend. To the small Malfoy family, this proved how much the Dark Lord actually "cared" about his Death Eaters. Over a wand, no less.

But, it was Potter's words that shocked Draco the most. _"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy._"

Draco blinked. He heard the Dark Lord's threat, heard Harry Potter stop him. "_I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him... I am the true master of the Elder Wand."_

It happened before Draco could get a bearing on Potter's words. Both the Dark Lord and Potter shouted their curses. And, the Dark Lord failed. The Dark Lord fell to the ground. Dead.

"Let us leave," Lucius whispered, touching his son's shoulder.

As the hall erupted around them, Draco shook his head, smiling. "No. I'm staying," he told his parents as the people around him rejoiced.

"Draco!" he heard shouted. He turned to see Luna Lovegood skipping up to him. Her face was pure elation as she took his hand. "Come. Help us. Voldemort is dead!"

Draco took one look at his parents before turning back to the girl. "Lead the way."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Before anyone asks, no this is not the end of the story. I still have one more chapter and an epilogue to go. And no, I still won't tell you how it ends. You'll just have to see for yourself... Now, honestly, how many people had tears in their eyes over Draco's speech? I did and I was the one writing it! 


	25. Chapter TwentyFour

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Twenty-Four

Draco sat at a table in front of Luna. His parents sat on either side of him, looking very uncomfortable. He didn't blame them. After all, as far as anyone around here knew, Lucius _was_ a Death Eater. He knew what his parents were thinking, however. Draco had helped Harry Potter's side. So perhaps Lucius will be forgiven?

Draco stared at Luna in dumbfounded confusion as she spoke of Narbles and other such nonsense. He enjoyed her company and yet, he couldn't help but wonder how Potter put up with this constantly.

"Luna?" Draco asked, trying to get her out of an explanation of Crumpled... something.

"Oh, Draco!" she exclaimed, giving him a soft smile. "I was wondering when you'd say my first name. Does this mean we are friends now?"

He stopped abruptly. Friends? A soft smile played on his lips. "I suppose. It can't hurt," he answered.

She seemed extremely pleased by this. She glanced from Lucius to Narcissa and back again. "You should be very proud of your son, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. He saved my life and Mr. Ollivander's. He also saved Seamus' life. Seamus told me about it. Not to mention others whom I'm sure he saved. He's very brave and very smart..."

Draco could feel his cheeks heat up in a blush. "Honestly, Luna. You make me sound like a saint," he complained. "I'm not all that great. I've committed many sins."

"Yes, but Hermione will forgive you," she told him offhandly.

All three Malfoys stared at her. When Draco could find his voice, he asked, "How did you know?"

In answer, she reached over and took his left hand into her right. She showed him his ring. "You can't see it too well, but Hermione wears the match around her neck. Shortly after battling Bellatrix, I caught a glimpse of it. Later, I questioned her and she told me, and I quote, 'It's a ring my fiancé gave me.' Well, I can recognize the Everlasting Heart from anywhere. My father is fascinated by magical artifacts and has a book about the Heart and Soul. I gave her my congrats, which I will now give to you. You're a very lucky man, Draco Malfoy."

He wanted to question her more, but at that time four people showed up. He shook hands with Finnigan and Thomas. Padma kissed him on the cheek and Blaise gave him a quick hug.

"Thanks a million, mate," Finnigan said. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for saving my life."

Padma giggled as she took a seat next to Luna. "If I know Draco, just your thanks is enough. Oh, and doting. He loves to be doted on."

Draco gave her a raised eyebrow. "I do not!" he denied.

Blaise laughed as he sat down next to Padma. "Of course you do," he argued playfully. "And after everything you've done, I wouldn't blame you. Damn, man. Even I haven't been able to do as much. Saved Finnigan's life, helped Lovegood here. Not to mention, you befriended my fiancée. I think you've more than redeemed yourself, mate."

"Yeah," Thomas agreed. "You did a lot of good for us. I was thinking of going to Shackbolt. See if you could get an Order of Merlin..."

Draco stopped him. "That won't be necessary. All I want is..."

His words failed him. She was there. Standing in the doorway to the Great Hall. She seemed to be looking for someone. She was looking for...

Him. Hermione met Draco's steel gray eyes and her heart fluttered. All the wrong things he had done were overshadowed by the good things he had done. Luna had told her about him feeding Mr. Ollivander and Luna. She had heard about him saving Seamus' life. He had saved others as well, fighting off Death Eaters. Some had claimed he had wielded his wand like a knight with a sword.

For a brief moment, she gave Ron an apologetic look. To her surprise, he nodded. He had heard of Draco's deeds as well. Though, like Harry, he still didn't trust the "greasy git," he understood the depth of Hermione's love. Her smile reached her ears as she gazed back at Draco.

"Hermione!" he called from across the room, causing everyone to become quiet in the Great Hall as they looked from the pureblood to the Muggle-born.

She laughed as he jumped over the table he had been sitting at to run to her. Deciding immediately to meet him halfway, she dashed towards him. Thankfully, she met no opposition as people quickly stepped out of her way.

They crashed into one another in an enormous embrace. His lips met hers and everyone else disappeared. She was completely enraptured with him as she felt his tongue collide with hers. They did not battle each other, but rather drank each other in with a hunger and thirst both planned to explore.

They broke apart after what seemed like ages. She touched his cheek and smiled at him. She stared into those deep gray orbs and knew she could see his soul there. "Hermione, I..." he started to whisper.

She placed a finger on his lips and hushed him. Then, to his surprise, she stepped back. Holding both of his hands in hers, she knelt down in front of him and said loudly, "Draco Malfoy, will you marry me?"

Every ear was turned to them. Food and chatter were forgotten as every person in the room hung on his reply. He smiled. "Yes," he told her.

The room erupted into cheers and shouts of enjoyment. People were clapping and congratulating the couple. Even Harry and Ron, even Draco's parents, were among those cheering.

"Miss Granger," a voice said from behind her, causing Hermione to wheel around.

She met another pair of steel eyes. She waited as Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the crowd, his wife behind him. A sneer played on his lips and from the corner of her eye, Hermione could see people touching their wands.

The older Malfoy towered over the young Gryffindor, but she refused to show any fear. She wasn't afraid, not by this man who didn't even brandish a wand. He surprised her as he took her hand into his and continued, "You're not my idea of a daughter-in-law, but I suppose you will do."

He bowed low and kissed the back of Hermione's hand. Narcissa gave her a soft smile that Hermione was surprised was warm. "Welcome to the family, Hermione Malfoy," the older woman said.


	26. Nineteen Years Later

_**Heart and Soul**_

By: Tassana Burrfoot

Nineteen Years Later

"Evangelon Gwendolyn Malfoy, you get back here right now!" Hermione yelled, hands on her hips.

The three-year-old giggled and ran behind her father. Draco bended down and picked her up. "You really need to stay with us, dear," he gently reprimanded. "This isn't the place to run around."

Indeed, the platform was bustling with activity. Eve just giggled, but Hermione gave a frustrated sigh, "I swear, she's more like you each passing day."

He laughed, "I beg to differ, darling. I did not have a habit of running around. That was _you_ and _your_ friends."

Hermione scoffed as she looked down at the reason why they were at King's Cross on the first of September. Scorpius gave his mother an arrogant look that reminded her greatly of his father. "They said they were coming," she assured him.

He snorted, "Yeah, well, they better. Albus said he was going to sit in the compartment with me on the train."

She heard her name called and looked up. She smiled as she saw her friends approaching. "Harry! Ron!" she responded loudly.

Draco turned to see both the Weasley family and the Potter family. He rolled his eyes. "Merlin's beard, Potter," Draco jeered. "Must you bring your _entire_ family?"

Harry and Ginny had three children, two boys and a girl. To Harry, that didn't seem a whole lot. Especially considering Ginny came from a rather large family. "What of you, Malfoy? A boy, a girl, and... another on the way? Hermione, you didn't tell us you were pregnant again."

Just then Blaise and Padma Zabini approached with their two girls. Padma smiled warmly at the small gathering as Blaise and Draco clasped hands. "So, Hermione, what does this make? Three now?" Blaise teased.

Padma gave Luna an apologetic look. "They hadn't told us of this new child either."

Luna nodded as she placed a hand on her daughter, Rose. "I'm not surprised. The Malfoys never invite anyone over anymore."

"What a bunch of bull!" Draco spouted as he shifted Eve's weight. "I know I owled all of you last week informing you of the dinner we are having."

Rose tugged on her father's shirt. "Dad? May I go to the dinner?"

Ron looked down at his daughter. "No, you have school."

"Oh, yes!" Hermione said, as though suddenly remembering why they were at King's Cross. "Scorpius, remember to behave, please. I know how you bunch like to get into trouble, but I know all the Professors and they will report..."

"I know, I know," Scorpius drawled.

"James, give Neville my love," Ginny said, as she kissed her eldest son on the cheek.

"Mum! I can't give a Professor _love_," he complained, drawing laughs from small group.

Albus looked at his father in concern, "_What if I'm in Slytherin?"_

"There's nothing wrong with Slytherin," Draco piped, offended. "I was in Slytherin. It's actually a pretty good house."

Harry nodded. "_Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew._"

"But_just say..."_

"_Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."_

"_Really?"_

"_It did for me,_" Harry assured him.

Hermione smiled at Harry before turning her attention back to the other children. They watched as the older children got onto the Hogwarts Express. The women fussed over their "babies" leaving as the men smiled proudly.

"It's a shame Eve won't be going with Hugo and Lily," Ginny commented as the train disappeared.

Padma smiled, "She'll have Kashi and Kerrie, so it won't be too bad."

Hermione nodded as she placed a hand on her large stomach. She threw Draco a mischievous grin. "Not to mention our own set of twins once they arrive..."

Draco snorted at the shocked looks on the faces of their friends. But, he cradled his daughter and wife pleasantly and feigned a look of shock himself, "Oh, we didn't tell you we're having twins?"

The group laughed. Then, they bid their farewells, knowing they'll see one another at the dinner at the Malfoys.

Draco kissed his wife softly on the lips. "Ready to go home, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked.

She slipped her hand into his. "Lead the way, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank everyone for reading this fanfic of mine. I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I still haven't decided whether or not I was planning on adding a sequel.

I decided to keep some of the names of the children as they were, while adding my own flare to them. Scorpius was named by his father. His full name is actually Scorpius Julius Malfoy. Eve was named by her mother, who named her after Evalon and Guenever. Kashi and Kerrie Zabini are twins, as well.

Again, I hope you all enjoyed it and aren't _too_ disappointed in the ending.


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